"But for the sea we wouldn't have any oysters or codfish," said Dennison,
soberly.

Dodge chuckled.

"Oysters and codfish! Say, you're all right! Never knew the old man had a
son until you blew in. Back in New York nobody ever said nothin' about
you. Where you been?"

"Lots of places."

"Any ridin'?"

"Some."

"Can you shoot?"

"A little."

"Kill any o' them Bolsheviks?"

"That would be guesswork. Did you ever kill a man?"

"Nope. Didn't have to. I'm pretty good on the draw, and where I come from
they knew it and didn't bother me."

"I see."

"Shootin' these days is all in the movies. I was ridin' for a film company
when your old man lassoed me for this job. Never know when you're well
off--huh? I thought there wouldn't be nothin' to do but grub pile three
times a day and the old man's cheroots in between. And here I be now,
ridin' along with a bunch of pirates! Whata you know about that? And some
of them nice boys, too. If they were riff-raff, barroom bums, I could get
a line on it. But I'll have to pass the buck."

"You haven't got an extra gun anywhere, have you?"

"We'd be headin' east if I had"--grimly. "I'd have pared down the odds
this mornin'. That hombre with the hop-a-long didn't leave me a quill
toothpick. Was you thinkin' of startin' somethin'?"--hopefully.