Francis Worcester Doughty

“ With his back planted against the door, the villains could only attack him from the front, and this—well, Shadow smiled. He gauged their temper and courage to a T.
Fire-arms are tools too noisy for such fellows, and they were armed with knives. To make these effective it was necessary to get within arm's length.
But to do this in the face of Shadow's revolver was a task they had little relish to attempt.
Silent as the grave itself, and grim as a man of stone, Shadow kept his revolver raised, his finger on the trigger, ready to defend himself. ”

“ The whole thing could never be a part of a woman's character.
Only a man, and not an ordinary man at that, could have acted as Shadow did under those trying circumstances.
He showed no disconcertion whatever when so suddenly attacked.
Agile as a cat in every movement, he gave a backward spring the moment they broke cover.
Before they could reach him, his hand had clasped the butt of his revolver. ”

“ They had then reached him—had him hemmed in, but he forced a passage by grimly pointing his revolver at the head of one of them.
He uttered not a word.
He did not forget himself, nor cease to maintain that singular silence which he seemed to have forced upon himself.
Perhaps his silence added to the effect of his threatening movements, but at any rate the villainous quartette shrank away from him, feeling they had caught a Tartar.
Shadow never lost his composure. ”