Well, it was nip and tuck with us, and I knew it.
If I spent the eleventh shot without convincing these people, the twelfth man would kill me, sure.

And so I never did feel so happy as I did when my ninth downed its man and I detected the wavering in the crowd which is premonitory of panic.

An instant lost now could knock out my last chance.

But I didn't lose it.
I raised both revolvers and pointed them--the halted host stood their ground just about one good square moment, then broke and fled.
The day was mine.

Knight-errantry was a doomed institution.