“You think you have conquered,” he said, “because I have given up my weapons. But not yet, my dear, not yet. I swear that you shall either kill me where I stand or go with me.”
He made a step in advance, and she brought down her right-hand pistol with a stern, decided movement. Thus they stood at bay, each looking into the eyes of the other.
“If you miss!” he hissed, speaking through his set teeth.
“I shall not miss,” was the stern reply. “Beware what you do.”
He was doubling himself for a spring, and her bright eyes were glancing resolutely along the barrel of the deadly weapon, when a calm voice said:
“Hold on! I meander in and take a hand.”
Myrtle turned with a wild cry of delight. Old Pegs in the body, to all appearance sound in every part, stood before her.
“Come hyar while I hug yer!” cried the old man, with a suspicious catch in his voice. “Rafe Norris, I’ll attend to you, right soon, I will.”
He passed his strong arm about the slender form of Myrtle, and pressed his lips to her fair cheek.
“Give them yer playthings ter me, darlin’,” he said, taking the revolvers from her. “I ain’t got ne’er a weepon. Now stand one side and see me mount this cuss.”