gets you, Andy, won't be so sure with his money, after all. He'll have your Uncle Jasper on his trail pronto, and Jasper used to be a killer with a gun in the old days."
"No more," smiled Andrew. "He's still steady as a rock, but he hasn't the speed any more. He's over seventy, you see. And his muscles are shriveling up, and his joints sort of creak when he tries to move with a snap."
"Ah," muttered the trapper, and again, as he started through the open door, "Ah!"
Then he added: "Well, son, you don't need Jasper. If half what they say is true, you're a handy lad with the guns. I suppose Jasper showed you his tricks?"
"Yes, and we worked out some new ones together."
"Now you're in a pinch, ain't it a shame that you ain't got a chance to keep in practice?"
"To tell the truth—don't think I'm bragging—I don't need much practice. Uncle Jasper raised me with a gun in my hand, you might say, and I don't think I'll ever lose the feel of a gun. You know what I mean?"
"H'm!" said Hank Rainer.
When they were sitting at the door in the semidusk, he reverted to the idea. "You been seein' that squirrel that's been runnin' across the clearin'?"
"Yes."
"I'd like to see you work your gun, Andy. It was a sight to talk about to watch Jasper, and I'm thinkin' you could go him one better. S'pose you stand up there in the door with your back to the clearin'. The next time that squirrel comes scootin' across I'll say, 'Now!' and you try to turn and get your gun on him before he's out of sight. Will you try that?"
"Suppose some one hears it?"
