“I’ll shoot the old thing off this time if it flies to pieces,” she said, and pulled the trigger with all her might.
“Bang!” went the gun, and down she sat very hard, not knowing where she had aimed. There was a great confusion of voices below and she thought she heard someone cry out with pain.
“Could I have shot anyone?” she asked herself tremulously as she picked herself up from the floor. Her shoulder ached and her finger was bruised, but she put the gun into position again.
“I’ll shoot any man who comes up those steps,” she called.
The outlaws had gathered under the gallery now, holding their torches high and gazing with some curiosity at the women grouped above them. Miss Campbell stood with her arm around Phoebe’s waist. Elinor and Mary were still at the window. Nancy was with Billie, and Alberdina crouched behind the barricade.
Lupo fell back angrily.
“I guess you ain’t got but one load in your old shotgun,” he called. “Come on, men. We’ll make a run for it.”
Billie turned the gun straight on him. She felt almost more afraid of the unwieldy thing than she did of the man himself.
“If it jumps again,” she thought, “it’ll break my shoulder. And it’s so undignified to have to sit down every time I shoot it off.”
The innkeeper made a leap for the steps and Lupo followed him. Billie ran to the other end of the gallery so as to get a better aim, and pulled at the trigger. The trunks were swaying and Alberdina had rushed from behind them.