Henry W. Patterson

“ Henderson dived across the room, leaped prodigiously and sunk his head in the fat man’s stomach. The fat man, who was clawing wildly for his gun with his left hand, grunted and crumpled to the floor in agony. Perry at this instant recovered his wits and rushed forward, snarling, to stagger back, blinded by the impact of a gun-barrel across his eyes.
“Here!” yelled Henderson, squatting before his partner.
Nick lowered one gun, still covering Tony with the other. Henderson grasped the barrel between his wrists and held it against the rawhide thongs. ”

“ Quick as light his right hand fluttered and a bullet spat into the threshold of the door, so that Perry’s descending foot covered the hole.
Even Henderson, crouched against the wall and watching his partner with veiled speculation and anxiety, was impressed by this display. He drew in his breath sharply. Nick was frankly frightened.
“See?” said the fat man, replacing the automatic in his hip pocket. “An’ Perry an’ Tony are most as good as that, too. It’s easier to draw from a holster,” he added in explanation. ”

“ During the first few days the partners loafed about, enjoying to the full the perfect relaxation that comes with the knowledge that work is for the time being not only futile but practically impossible. ”

“ What about the one you give Perry, huh?”
The fat man groaned and eased over on his side.
“Say,” he wheezed craftily. “A man that can shoot like you can is wastin’ his time out in this ⸺ place. Why don’t you two come in with us? There’s forty thousand in bills amongst us three. We’ll split it five ways—eight thousand apiece. What about it?”
Henderson spat. Nick grinned.
“No,” he answered. “Not us, I guess. I seen your face in the papers too many times a couple o’ years ago, an’ I bet it’s there today, too. You’re wanted bad back in the States, old boy, an’ I know it.”
He turned to his partner. ”