She felt something touch her right hand, which was gripped at her side. Again she heard the whisper.
“Take it, quick. It’s all loaded, the way Ben told me. I have the other. Point it at them, quick!”
The men moved toward her. She opened her fingers and closed them on the butt of a pistol. She felt a weight on her shoulder and saw a thin arm and small hand and the other old dueling pistol extended past her ear. She raised her own right hand and cocked the hammer with a click.
“They are loaded!” cried the little girl shrilly. “And the caps are on, and everything. Ben showed me how to load them. And I’ll pull the trigger if you come another step, you old man with the queer whiskers! The bullets are big. And I put two in each pistol and plenty of powder.”
“Stand close together, you two, and move to the left,” said Mrs. O’Dell. “Do you hear me, Lunt? Do as I tell you, or I’ll shoot—and so will the little girl. These are real pistols. That’s right. That’s far enough. Stand there and stand steady.”
“This is a serious matter, Mrs. O’Dell,” exclaimed Lunt. “You are guilty of threatenin’ the law with deadly weapons—of resistin’ it with firearms.”
Mrs. O’Dell put up her left hand and relieved the child of the other pistol, at the same time speaking a few words in a low voice but without taking her glance or her aim off the intruders. Marion slipped past her, ran over and took Lunt’s gun from where he had stood it against the wall.
“‘STAND THERE AND STAND STEADY.’”
“Steady, both of you,” warned the woman. “Keep your eyes on me. You will notice that I am not aiming at your heads. I’m aiming at your stomachs—large targets for so short a range.”