'Count three, brother. Slow and even.'
'You both ready, now?' I asked.
'I am ready', said the trapper.
'Ready', said Charlie.
'One' I said - and Charlie and I both let loose with our pistols, four bullets fired simultaneously, with each finding its target, skull shots every one. The trappers dropped to the ground from which none of them would rise again. It was an immaculate bit of killing, the slickest and most efficient I could recall, and no sooner had they fallen than Charlie began laughing, as I did, though more out of relief than anything, whereas Charlie, I believe, was genuinely tickled.