"It may have deadly work to do, Miss Milliken," said Mr. Peters.
Conversation languished again. Billie had no further remarks to make of immediate interest, and Mr. Peters was struggling with a return of the deplorable shyness which so handicapped him in his dealings with the other sex. After a few moments, he pulled himself together again, and, as his first act was to replace the pistol in the pocket of his coat, Billie became conscious of a faint stirring of relief.
"The great thing," said Jno. Peters, "is to learn to draw quickly. Like this!" he added, producing the revolver with something of the smoothness and rapidity with which Billie, in happier moments, had seen conjurers take a bowl of gold fish out of a tall hat. "Everything depends on getting the first shot! The first shot, Miss Milliken, is vital."
Suddenly Billie had an inspiration. It was hopeless she knew, to try to convince this poor demented creature, obsessed with his idee fixe, that she was not Miss Milliken. Denial would be a waste of time, and might even infuriate him into precipitating the tragedy. It was imperative that she should humour him. And, while she was humouring him, it suddenly occurred to her, why not do it thoroughly.
"Mr. Peters," she cried, "you are quite mistaken!"
"I beg your pardon," said Jno. Peters, with not a little asperity.
"Nothing of the kind!"
"You are!"
"I assure you I am not. Quickness in the draw is essential."
"You have been misinformed."
"Well, I had it direct from the man at the Rupert Street range," said
Mr. Peters stiffly. "And if you had ever seen a picture called Two-Gun
Thomas…."