The last move thrust his right leg out from the shelter. There was a report from the Springfield, a gout of sand from just under the cowpuncher’s boot, apparently, and a yell from the puncher himself. He crawled to his feet, bringing his rifle up with him. He aimed half-heartedly at Henry, threw the gun down in fright, and ran away. He limped as he ran. Though that, of course, might have been due to his boots hurting him.
He fled directly to the rear, toward a friendly rise of ground. He was accompanied, shepherded and steered by the offerings of Henry. _Crr-ack_—and a bullet struck close beside him on the right. _Crr-ack_—and another threatened his toenails on the left. So it went, right and left, right and left, until the ridge intervened, and he flung himself headlong to safety.
A rush of cheering, babbling spectators engulfed the little man, who stood up to brush the sand off his clothes and put the remainder of his ammunition in the pockets of his ill-fitting jacket.
Ed’s long legs brought him quickly. He grabbed his friend by the shoulder and shook him, half in fondness and half in vexation. “Henry,” he said, “Henry, you damned little scoundrel!”
Henry’s face was alight with a big idea. “Say, Ed, I’m going to ask the N. R. A. to stage a moving-target thing at Perry next year—you know, a silhouette on a sledge going off down the range away from you. It’s bully sport. Keeps you busy raising her for increasing distance.”
“Say, _hombre_, you sure can shoot!” panted Sam, thrusting out a beefy hand.
“Of course he can shoot,” agreed Ed, impatience merely a cloak to his pride. “He was instructor in rifle-practice during the war. And he’s just won the Governor’s Trophy at the State Rifle Association matches over at Mineral Springs.”
Henry’s face fell. “Shoot, nothing!” he denied. “See the first one? Say, it hit the ground a foot this side of that log—yes sir, a foot! I was afraid to let myself out after that. Might have hurt that cowboy if I did.”
“Maybe it’s the gun, Henry,” suggested Ed thoughtfully. They were oblivious now to the milling spectators.