Think of bein' able to shoot yoreself ten times before th' blame thing stops!" Then looking at the line-up for the owner of the weapon, he laughed at the woeful countenances displayed.

"Did they sidle in by companies or squads ?" He asked.
"By twos, mostly.

Then they parade-rested an' got discharged from duty.
I had eleven, but one got homesick, or disgusted, or something, an' deserted.

It was that cussed flapjack," confessed and explained Mr.
Connors.
"What!" said Mr.Cassidy in a loud voice.

"Got away! Well, we'll have to make our get-away plumb sudden or we'll never go." At this instant the escaped man again began his bombardment from the corner of the corral and Mr.Cassidy paused, indignant at the fusillade which tore up the dust at his feet.