“So it's you, Struve?”
“Yes, it's me—me and my friends.”
“I've been looking for you high and low.”
“Well, you've found me,” came the immediate exultant answer.
“I reckon I'm indebted to you for this.” Fraser moved his shoulder slightly.
“You'll owe me a heap more than that before the night's over.”
“Your intentions were good then, I expect. Being shy a trigger finger spoils a man's aim.”
“Not always.”
“Didn't like to risk another shot from Bald Knob, eh? Must be some discouraging to hit only once out of three times at three hundred yards, and a scratch at that.”
The convict swore. “I'll not miss this time, Mr. Lieutenant.”