“I don’t know just what happened then, but I must have touched a loose rock, because it fell and made a lot of noise. I ran behind the rock and they went past me. Then I crept to the side of the hill, but they saw me and shot at me. I just remembered that I still had a gun and I shot. I don’t think I hit anybody and then I managed to get here and climb up on that rock. I—I think they shot several times at me, but it all seemed like nightmare, and then I—I shot at you.”
“So did they,” said Snag, foolish-like.
Mary Jane leans back against the rock and begins to weep. I starts to go over to her but Hashknife yanks me back. Snag walks over to her and pats her on the shoulder, kinda bashful-like, and says:
“Gosh, don’t do that! I’m all right and you found the place where they drifted all those cows, and we’ll find the rustlers.”
“Bub-but I shot you,” wails Mary Jane. “I—I don’t know how I happened to hit you. You saved my life that n-night in San Francisco, and I wanted to th-thank you, but I shot——”
“Aw, that’s all right,” says Snag, foolish-like. “You can shoot me any old time yuh feel like it.”
Wasn’t that a —— of a thing for a growed-up man to say?
“Duck!” says Hashknife, and the three of us went down like prairie-dogs when a hawk shows up.
“What was it?” whispers Windy, cocking his gun.