I believe they've stopped to water their horses and feed at a little lake just this side of the rough country." Billinger had loosened his carbine, and was examining the breech.

He glanced anxiously at Philip's empty saddle-straps.
"It'll be long-range shooting, if they've got guns," he said.

"Sorry I couldn't find a gun for you." Philip drew one of his two long-barreled service revolvers and set his lips in a grim and reassuring smile as he followed the bobbing head of a coyote some distance away.
"We're not considered proficient in the service unless we can make use of these things at two hundred yards, Billinger," he replied, replacing the weapon in its holster.

"If it's a running fight I'd rather have 'em than a carbine.

If it isn't a running fight we'll come in close." Philip looked at the agent as they galloped side by side through the long grass, and Billinger looked at him.