“Nope.” Slim shook his head violently. “Never had to.”
“Would, if yuh had to, wouldn’t yuh?”
“Sure—why not?”
“Yuh may have to.”
Sleepy straightened up in his saddle. Slim looked quickly at Sleepy who was grinning widely. Sleepy always grinned when there was action in the wind.
“I don’t quite sabe the drift of this, Hartley,” said Slim. “Why should I have to kill a man?”
“To make him quit shootin’.”
“Oh, yeah. Well—all right.”
Slim drew his six-shooter, examined the cylinder critically and put it back.
“I wish I’d a’ practised more,” he said dryly.