He came back to the bar with it, his face fairly blue with wonder.
“Durned ef the stranger hain’t won,” he said; “the dime hain’t got either a head or a tail.”
He laid the coin on the bar, and everybody crowded around to look at it.
Patsy’s first bullet had struck it on one side and his second on the other, for the coin was spinning in the air and luck was with him to the extent that both bullets did not hit the same side.
“Wal! ef that ain’t the durnedest shootin’ ever I seen!” said one of the men.
All agreed with him.
“It means,” said Sam, gravely, “that we let the white-livered cuss upstairs alone. But you must come with us to the next joint, pardner.”
“All right,” replied Patsy, “lead on.”
“An’ you’ll hev to make some galoot dance soon as we find one of the right kind.”