t me to congratulate you, madam. Still he may have points."

"Daniel?" She shrugged her shoulders. "I cannot say. Pedro did. Most men
have. Oh!" she cried, impulsively stopping short. "Why don't you learn to
shoot? Won't you?"

"I've about decided to," I admitted. "That appears to be the saving
accomplishment of everybody out here."

"Of everybody who stays. You must learn to draw and to shoot, both. The
drawing you will have to practice by yourself, but I can teach you to
shoot. So can those men. Let me have your pistol, please."

I passed it to her. She was all in a flutter.

"You must grasp the handle firmly; cover it with your whole palm, but
don't squeeze it to death; just grip it evenly--tuck it away. And keep
your elbow down; and crook your wrist, in a drop, until your trigger
knuckle is pointing very low--at a man's feet if you're aiming for his
heart."

"At his feet, for his heart?" I stammered. The words had an ugly sound.

"Certainly. We are speaking of shooting now, and not at a tin can. You
have to allow for the jump of the muzzle. Unless you hold it down with
your wrist, you over shoot; and it's the first shot that counts. Of
course, there's a feel, a knack. But don't aim with your eyes. You won't
have time. Men file off the front sight--it sometimes catches, in the
draw. And it's useless, anyway. They fire as they point with the finger,
by the feel. You see, they _know_."

"Evidently you do, too, madam," I faltered, amazed.

"Not all," she panted. "But I've heard the talk; I've watched--I've seen
many things, sir, from Omaha to Benton. Oh, I wish I could tell you more;
I wish I could help you right away. I meant, a dead-shot with the revolver
knows beforehand, in the draw, where his bullet shall go. Some men are
born to shoot straight; some have to practice a long, long while. I wonder
which you are."

"If there is pressing need in my case," said I, "I shall have to rely upon
my friends to keep me from being done for."

"You?" she uttered, with a touch of asperity. "Oh, yes. Pish, sir!
Friends, I am learning, have their own hides to consider. And those
gentlemen of yours are Gentiles with goods for Salt Lake Mormons. Are they
going to throw all business to the winds?"

"You yourself may appeal to his father, and to the women, for protection
if that lout annoys you," I ventured.

"To them?" she scoffed. "To Hyrum Adams' outfit? Why, they're Mormons and
good Mormons, and why should I not be m