“If you will promise to put up that gun and let this drunken Indian go, I will withdraw.”
“Did you ever hear of Dan Carver?”
“Yes.”
“I am Carver.”
CHAPTER XVII—OFF FOR PUEBLO
Frank was astonished, but his face showed not the least sign of surprise. Carver was a Western sport and “bad man.” It was said that, when aroused, he was more dangerous than a hundred rattlesnakes.
“Well, Mr. Carver,” said Frank, “I have heard that it is your custom to do your shooting first and your palavering afterward; but I trust you will break the rule in this case. I have heard that you claim to be a gentleman, and, as a gentleman, I ask you not to do any shooting here in the presence of these ladies, who are already badly frightened, and would be horrified at the sight of blood.”
“Oh, if you put it that way,” said the man, slowly, “I presume I shall have to throw up my hand, although I feel it a duty to shoot some holes in that drunken redskin.”
“As a favor to the ladies you will not shoot him?”
“As a favor to the ladies, I will not shoot him—here.”