His friends knew it and would laugh him into forgetfulness as the fool who boasted.

Now he understood why he had lost so many friends: they had attempted what he had sworn to attempt.

Look where he would he could see only a smoke-wrapped demon who moved and shot with a speed incredible.

There was reason why Slim had died.

There was reason why Porous and Silent had paled when they learned of their mission.
He hated his conspicuous clothes and his pretty broncho, and the woman who had gotten him to squander his money, and who was doubtless convulsed with laughter at his expense.