"Or," Lafe resumed, "what if I put it up this way to some of them terrible fighters? What if I said, 'Let's put two guns on a table, draw off to opposite sides of the room, let another feller count three, and the man who gets to 'em first, lives?'"
None of the three moved when Johnson had finished. The alarm clock on the flimsy, draped mantel-shelf ticked loudly. Miss Hawes's breathing sounded strained.
"Ol' man Haverty wanted to see you down at the Fashion, Moffatt," Lafe said at last.
"You coming, too?"
"I reckon so."
"You're on," said Moffatt.
CHAPTER VI
DISCOMFITURE OF A GUNFIGHTER
Grace accompanied them to the door.