You're one of us.

Poor Jack--my girl!" "Poor ?" she returned.

"Not while I can make a quick draw and shoot straight." And then she swept the circle of eyes, daring them to take her boast lightly, but they knew her too well, and were all solemnly silent.

At this she relented somewhat, and went directly to Pierre, flushing from throat to hair.

She held out her hand.
"Will you shake and call it square ?" "I sure will," nodded Pierre.
"And we're pals--you and me, like the rest of 'em ?" "We are." She took the place beside him.
As the whisky went round after round the two seemed shut away from the others; they were younger, less marked by life; they listened while the others talked, and now and then exchanged glances of interest or aversion.
"Listen," she said after a time, "I've heard this story before." It was Phil Branch, square-built and square of jaw, who was talking.
"There's only one thing I can handle better than a gun, and that's a sledgehammer.