"He'll die just now, anyhow, if all of us nail him," remarked Max, laughing at the way the bear stood there watching them spread out like a fan.
"Aren't we close enough. Max?" asked Bandy-legs, who was nearly twice as far away as the two bolder spirits,
"Yes," piped up Steve, "let's get to work. You count three, Max; and remember, Bandy-legs, don't you dare shoot till you hear him say 'three' plain as dirt."
"But, Steve," said Max.
"What d'ye want?" grumbled the other, trembling with eagerness to begin operations.
"I hope you've only got one hammer raised," continued Max. "It'd be pretty tough if you fired both barrels again, and lamed your left shoulder, too."
"Cracky! I guess you're right, Max. Wait a few seconds till I set one hammer down. I ain't going to take the chances. Shooting left-handed's bad enough, but what'd I do if I lamed that arm, too!"
"Try it w-w-with your l-l-legs!" observed Toby.
"All ready!" called out Max.
"Q-q-quick! He's m-m-moving off!" shouted Toby.