How's that strike you?
Most of those kids don't need any pistols, they can kill time without them.

We've got some dead ones over there, Jim, only they haven't got sense enough to lie down.

What do you bet we don't get some gas in this house?
Well, here goes for a knock on the door by Ned the Nabber,--_one_ pistol." Pee-wee held his breath, listening.

What could this mean?
Seventy pistols?
Blackjacks?
His old friend, The Bandit of Harrowing Highway?
Dead ones?
Was he indeed in the spell of some horrible nightmare?
What on earth could this mean?
In a kind of trance he heard a knocking on the door and a lot of hearty, clamoring, bantering voices.

They did not seem at all like robbers and cut-throats.