"Did n't have no hunger for comin' into the Spout after me, Original?" Zang laughed shortly.
"I never match up against forty, Zang, when I can find a way to match up with one—or even two." Original sent a quick flash of his teeth Hilma's way.
With all his pose of indolent ease there against the doorpost, Original's black eyes never left the figures of the two confronting him ten feet away. Though the girl's shoulders partially screened Whistler's body, and the broad flare of her blue skirt hid one of his legs, one booted foot was visible beyond the hem of her gown. Original's quick eye caught a movement of this foot; the toe lifted ever so little and sidled outward.
"Figure to take me in alive, a' course, Original." Zang spoke the words softly, almost in a croon, and the groping toe moved outward still farther.
"Alive 'd be much better, Zang," Original vouchsafed carelessly.
"Well," from the outlaw, "I reckon maybe" He leaped then, quick as a timber gray, back and away from the figure of the girl. Two shots sounded as one. The wide
