Bud leaped from the wagon, drawing his gun as he did so. "You sha'n't call me a coward," he shouted to Slim.
Polly ran behind Bud, and, reaching her arms about his waist, held down his hands, depressing the muzzle of his revolver. Slim danced up and down in the excitement with his revolver in his hand. Polly kept calling on both of the men not to shoot.
"Let him alone," shouted Slim excitedly. "Let him alone, Miss Polly. He's only four-flushin', and I ain't gun shy."
"Now, look a yeah, sonny," he cried to Bud, "if that squirt-gun of yours goes off an' hits me, an' I find it out—well, I reckon I'll have to spank you."
Bud tried to break away from Polly, begging her to "Let go."
The girl laid her hands on his shoulder, gazing pleadingly into his flushed face. "Don't, don't," she cried; "it's all right. Slim knows all about it. He knows I love you, and he wouldn't hurt any one that I love, would you, Slim?"
Polly smiled at the Sheriff, completely disarming him.
Shoving his gun back into the holster, Slim grinned, and said: "I reckon I wouldn't."
"We've been engaged forever so long now, waitin' for Bud to get rich, and now—and now it's come."
Her face radiated her happiness. Bud showed his alarm, motioning her to be silent, but Polly rattled on: "Bud's been saving and saving, 'till he's got over a thousand dollars and—" Slim could not contain his indignation at the deception practised by the boy.