The gambler took his ten-shooter from his waist, set it beneath the bench, lifted up a loose plank, looked at the oblong bundle that lay in the dirt below, withdrew a pair of binoculars, replaced the plank, sat down, took off his black hat, fanned himself with it, and yawned.
“You gonna set up the special gun now?” prompted Oswell.
“It is assembled and loaded, as is the lever-action rifle you gave me.”
“I suppose you shouldn’t have it out while people are getting to the church,” observed Godfrey.
“If someone comes directly at me, I will use my revolver, which is far quieter than either rifle. Once those church doors are shut, I will ready this—” Dicky thumped the heel of his boot upon the loose plank and raised his binoculars from his lap. “Presently, I will survey these fine Montana l
