Brandon of the Engineers

"You're going down town, Mr. Brandon," he said. "Have you got a gun?"

"I have not," said Dick.

Payne pulled out an automatic pistol. "Then you'd better take mine. I

bought her, second-hand, with my first pay, but she's pretty good. I

reckon you can shoot?"

"A little," said Dick, who had practised with the British army revolver.

"Still I don't carry a pistol."

"You ought," Payne answered meaningly, and walking to the other end of

the veranda stuck a scrap of white paper on a post. "Say, suppose you try

her? I want to see you put a pill through that."

Dick was surprised by the fellow's persistence, but there is a

fascination in shooting at a target, and when Jake urged him he took the

pistol. Steadying it with stiffened wrist and forearm, he fired but hit

the post a foot below the paper.

"You haven't allowed for the pull-off, and you're slow," Payne remarked.

"You want to sight high, with a squeeze on the trigger, and then catch

her on the drop."

He took the pistol and fixed his eyes on the paper before he moved. Then

his arm went up suddenly and the glistening barrel pointed above the

mark. There was a flash as his wrist dropped and a black spot appeared

near the middle of the paper.

"Use her like that! You'd want a mighty steady hand to hold her dead on

the mark while you pull off."

"Sit down and tell us why you think Mr. Brandon ought to have the

pistol," Jake remarked. "I go to Santa Brigida now and then, but you

haven't offered to lend it me."

Payne sat down on the steps and looked at him with a smile. "You're all

right, Mr. Fuller. They're not after you."

"Then you reckon it wasn't me they wanted the night my partner was

stabbed? I had the money."

"Nope," said Payne firmly. "I allow they'd have corralled the dollars if

they could, but it was Mr. Brandon they meant to knock out." He paused

and added in a significant tone: "They're after him yet."

"Hadn't you better tell us whom you mean by 'they'?" Dick asked.

"Oliva's gang. There are toughs in the city who'd kill you for fifty

cents."

"Does that account for your buying the pistol when you came here?"

"It does," Payne admitted dryly. "I didn't mean to take any chances when

it looked as if I was going back on my dago partner."

"He turned you down first, and I don't see how you could harm him by

working for us."

Payne did not answer, and Dick, who thought he was pondering something,

resumed: "These half-breeds are a revengeful lot, but after all, Oliva

wouldn't run a serious risk without a stronger motive than he seems to

have."