“Sure.”
“Do you carry guns?”
“No.”
“Be yer armed anyway?”
“No.”
“Hyar, take one o’ my shooters.”
“What for?”
“You’ll need it.”
“Oh, I scarcely think so.”
“That’s right,” nodded Pecos Pete—“that’s right, Hank. He won’t need it ef Charlie draws on him. What show’d he have? Charlie is old lightnin’, an’ he’d fill the boy full o’ bullets afore the kid could think o’ reachin’ fer a gun.”