The only man for me is the man who has the nerve to wait when he's being shot at." Crack! Far up on the bald knob a single shot sounded, and a bullet struck the ground about six feet from where Tom Reade stood with the binocular at his eyes.
Then there came a volley from the right of the rock, followed by one from the rock itself.
"Easy, boys," cautioned Fulsbee, as the bullets tore up the ground back of the firing line.

"I'll give you the word when the time comes." Another volley sounded.

Bullets tore up the ground near President Newnham, and one leaden pellet carried off that gentleman's soft hat.
"Please lie down, Mr.Newnham," begged Tom, turning around.

Now that the fight had opened the cub chief saw less use for the binocular.
"We can't have you hit, sir.

You're the head of the company, please remember." "I don't like this place, but I'm only one human life here," the man from Broadway replied quietly, gravely.