“Yuh two is sure baseball players—yuh tossed me at that mark and hit it every time,” Allen said to them.
Tad Hicks halted to explain to his bosom friends, Windy Sam and Kansas.
“The Wolf is goin’ to have us toss him through that window, an’ he makes us practice tossin’ him at a rock an’ keeps us doin’ it, until we hit it three time runnin’ with his head.”
Sheriff Tom Powers, the Hogg brothers, and several men of the posse listened in silence until Allen had finished telling his plan. For a moment its sheer audacity held them silent, then they shook their heads. The thing was impossible. Sam Hogg glanced wonderingly at Allen’s freckled, youthful face. He could discern nothing but the spirit of youthful adventure there, like that of a schoolboy planning to rob an orchard. He sighed and again shook his head. Courage such as Allen’s was too precious to be wasted. There wasn’t a chance in a thousand of success.
“Yuh can’t do it,” the sheriff objected.
“Hell, there’s thirteen men in there,” the little cattleman added.
“A darned unlucky number for them,” remarked Allen.
“And five of the best gun fighters on the border,” Toothpick pointed out.
“I ain’t aimin’ to wipe out all them gents. I’m aimin’ to sorta keep ’em busy, while you bust the door down,” Allen explained.
“You’re loco! Bust that door down? It would take an hour to do it,” Jim Hogg protested.