"That's funny--wonder where th' damn pirut is ?" He looked out cautiously and saw a cloud of smoke over a knothole which was situated close up under the eaves of the barroom; and it was being agitated.

Some one was blowing at it to make it disappear.

He aimed very carefully at the knot and fired.
He heard a sound between a curse and a squawk and was not molested any further from that point.
"I knowed he'd git hurt," he explained to the bandage, torn from the edge of his kerchief, which he carefully bound around his last wound.
Down in the arroyo Johnny was complaining.
"This yer's a no good bunk," he plaintively remarked.
"It shore ain't--but it's th' best we kin find," apologized Billy.
"That's th' sixth that feller sent up there.

He's a damn poor shot," observed Johnny; "must be Shorty." "Shorty kin shoot plum' good--tain't him," contradicted Billy.
"Yas--with a six-shooter.

He's off'n his feed with a rifle," explained Johnny.
"Yu wants to stay down from up there, yu ijit," warned Billy as the disgusted Johnny crawled up the bank.