“’Tis the way I wore it in the regiment.”
“No, no, pull it around to your side.”
Duff did as directed.
“And let it hang low. Look at my gun. When my arm is hanging normally by my side, my hand is even with the pistol grip. See?”
Duff made the necessary adjustments.
Falcon began the task with some reservation because he feared that the job of teaching Duff to use a pistol might be more than he could handle. But he knew, also, that if Duff was going to survive his time in the West, he was going to have to be prepared for it.
“Let’s see what you can do,” Falcon said. He pulled his pistol and pointed at a nearby tree. “You see those three little limbs sticking up there? I’m going to shoot the one in the middle.”
Falcon fired, and half the twig flew away.
“Now you try it.”
Duff fired, and the rest of the twig was blasted from the tree.
Falcon squinted, then looked over at Duff. “What did you do? Miss your twig and hit that one by mistake?”
“No, I didn’t miss at all,” Duff said. “I thought that was the twig you wanted me to hit.”
“Can you hit one of the others?”
“Which one?”
“Your choice.”
Duff fired twice, the shots coming so close together that it sounded almost as if it were one sustained roar. Both of the other twigs were cut by his bullets.
“Damn,” Falcon said. “You’ll do just fine.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have the skills necessary to make a rapid extraction though,” Duff said.
Falcon had to think for a moment until he realized what Duff was saying. Then he laughed. “You mean a quick draw,” he said.
“Aye.”
“Let me tell you something about quick draws,” Falcon said. “Half the people who can draw faster than you, can’t shoot. They depend upon their speed, then just blaze away, hoping they can hit what they are shooting at. Being able to hit your target is much more important than being able to get your pistol out first.”
“You said half the people,” Duff said. “That means that the other half can draw faster than I can, and can also hit their target.”
“You might think that,” Falcon said. “But there is still another consideration. If you are going to draw on someone, you must be prepared to kill them, and you must be prepared to do so without the slightest hesitation.”
“I would imagine that one would not draw upon another if he did not want to kill him,” Duff said.
Falcon shook his head. “And that is where you would be wrong. It takes a lot of resolve to kill a man. Most will hesitate for just a second trying to fortify themselves to the task at hand. And that hesitation can be fatal. You have killed before, in self-defense, yes. But sometimes the question of self-defense might be a blurry line. Could you do it then?”
“When I was in Egypt I killed men for no other reason than that they were wearing a uniform different from my own,” Duff said. “As far as I know they were good men, family men, husbands, fathers, sons, and brothers. But I didn’t think about any of that. The only thing I thought of was my duty.”
On the morning they were to leave for Cheyenne, Morgan MacCallister arrived at the homestead driving a buckboard. Falcon tossed his saddle and saddlebags into the back of the buckboard, then tied Lightning, his big bronze stallion, onto the back. He had made arrangements to ship Lightning up to Cheyenne on the same train he and Duff would take. Morgan put his bagpipes and sea bag into the back.
“Duff, as you are my guest, you ride up front in the seat with Morgan,” Falcon invited. “I’ll sit back here.”
“Are you sure? I’m as comfortable in either place,” Duff replied.
“I’m sure. Besides, this will give you and Morgan an opportunity to visit,” Falcon said as he crawled into the back of the buckboard.
“I appreciate the kind gesture,” Duff said. He climbed into the buckboard and sat beside Morgan.
“So how have you two gotten along?” Morgan asked as he snapped the reins against the back of the team.
“Splendidly,” Duff said. “I feel much closer than a fifth cousin.”
“Fifth cousin? Is that what we are? Fifth cousins?”
“Yes, our nearest relative is five generations ago.”
Morgan laughed. “Would that be once removed or something?”
Duff laughed as well. “It is admittedly, quite distant,” he said.
Toots Nelson was standing on the depot platform when they arrived, and upon seeing Duff, he made a big show of pulling his cane closer to his body.
“Young man, I do hope you have no intention of using my cane to subdue another fleeing ruffian.”
