ockin'
together. It's enough, however; it strikes on the y'ear of that
thoughtful gyard like the roar of a '44. He emerges from his reverie
with a start; the play comes cl'ar as noonday to him in a moment.

"The gyard leaps, without even lookin' 'round, to free himse'f from the
clutch of Silver Phil. Which he's the splinter of a second too late.
Silver Phil makes a spring like a mountain lion, laig-locks an' all,
an' grabs the gun. As the gyard goes clatterin' down sta'rs. Silver
Phil pumps two loads into him an' curls him up at the foot. Then
Silver Phil hurls the six-shooter at him with a volley of mal'dictions.

"Without pausin' a moment, Silver Phil grabs the stool an' smashes to
flinders the locker that holds the 10-gauge Greener. He ain't forgot
none; an' he's fair locoed to get that partic'lar weepon for the other
gyard. He rips it from the rack an' shows at the window as his prey
comes runnin' to the rescoo of his pard:

"'Oh, you! Virg Sanders!' yells Silver Phil.

"The second gyard looks up; an' as he does, Silver Phil gives him both
bar'ls. Forty-two buckshot; an' that gyard's so clost he stops 'em
all! As he lays dead, Silver Phil breaks the Greener in two, an'
throws, one after the other, stock an' bar'l at him.

"'Which I'll show you-all what happens when folks loads a gun for me!'
says Silver Phil.

"Nacherally, this artillery practice turns out the entire plaza. The
folks is standin' about the 'doby which confines Silver Phil, wonderin'
whatever that enthoosiast's goin' to do next. No, they don't come
after him, an' I'll tell you why. Shore, thar's twenty gents lookin'
on, any one of whom, so far as personal apprehensions is involved,
would trail Silver Phil single-handed into a wolf's den. Which he'd
feel plumb confident he gets away with Silver Phil an' the wolves
thrown in to even up the odds. Still, no one stretches forth to
capture Silver Phil on this yere voylent o'casion. An' these is the
reasons. Thar's no reg'lar offishul present whose dooty it is to rope
up this Silver Phil. If sech had chanced to be thar, you can put down
a stack he'd come a-runnin', an' him or Silver Phil would have caught
up with the two gyards on their journey into the beyond. But when it
gets down to private people volunteerin' for dooty as marshals, folks
in the Southwest goes some slothful to work. Thar's the friends of the
accoosed--an' as a roole he ain't none friendless--who would mighty
li