nced so far in his cups that he was all but speechless.
Being a magnanimous man, he would have been quite content to let
bygones be bygones, but this unjustifiable action of Buller's required
prompt and effectual chastisement. He would send the wealthy ranchman
to keep company with his slaughtered herdsmen.

Thus it was that when Buller mounted his horse after his futile visit
to the lawyer, he found Hickory Sam holding the street with his guns.
The fusillade that followed was without result, which disappointing
termination is accounted for by the fact that Sam was exceedingly drunk
at the time, and the ranchman was out of practice. Seldom had Salt Lick
seen so much powder burnt with no damage except to the window-glass in
the vicinity. Buller went back to the lawyer's office, and afterwards
had an interview with the bank manager. Then he got quietly out of town
unmolested, for Sam, weeping on Mike's shoulder over the inaccuracy of
his aim, gradually sank to sleep in a corner of the saloon.

Next morning, when Sam woke to temporary sobriety, he sent word to the
ranch that he would shoot old Buller on sight, and, at the same time,
he apologised for the previous eccentricities of his fire, promising
that such an annoying exhibition should not occur again. He signed
himself "The Terror of Salt Lick, and the Champion of Law and Order."

It was rumoured that old Buller, when he returned to the lawyer's
office, had made his will, and that the bank manager had witnessed it.
This supposed action of Buller was taken as a most delicate compliment
to Hickory Sam's determination and marksmanship, and he was justly
proud of the work he had thrown into the lawyer's hands.

A week passed before old Buller came to Salt Lick, but when he came,
Hickory Sam was waiting for him, and this time the desperado was not
drunk, that is to say, he had not had more than half a dozen glasses of
forty rod that morning.

When the rumour came to Hades that old Buller was approaching the town
on horseback and alone, Sam at once bet the drinks that he would fire
but one shot, and so, in a measure, atone for the ineffectual racket he
had made on the occasion of the previous encounter. The crowd stood by,
in safe places, to see the result of the duel.

Sam, a cocked revolver in his right hand, stood squarely in the centre
of the street, with the sturdy bearing of one who has his quarrel just,
and who besides can pierce the ace spot on a card ten yards