Bending down from his saddle he picked up the weapon and the next minute the enraged assassin was staring into the unwavering and, to him, growing muzzle of a Colt's .45.
"Yu shore had a bum teacher.

Don't yu know better'n to push it in?
An' me a cowpuncher, too! I'm most grieved at yore conduct--it shows you don't appreciate cow-wrastlers.

This is safer," he remarked, throwing the stiletto through the air and into a door, where it rang out angrily and quivered.

"I don't know as I wants to ventilate yu; we mostly poisons coyotes up my way," he added.

Then a thought struck him.