Chapter 2

The two boys lay on top of the boulder they had just climbed and looked out over the lake. Both rested their heads on the palms of their hands, elbows dug into the rock.

"And then, when Mr. Bevers drew, Mr. Connor was so fast that he shot him in the leg and didn't even get hurt himself!" Joe was relaying the excitement from his trip to town the other day.

"I bet I could draw real fast like that," Sam said, and got up to act it out, as if that was proof. Joe jumped up and joined him. Soon, the two had scrambled down the rock and were playing shootout on the lakeshore, taking turns falling down in mock pain.

Joe, always the clown, stepped into the water and fell in. Before long, both boys were swimming in their clothes, splashing each other and pretending to be fish.

"Boys!" Hoss' big voice boomed, even under water. The small heads popped up and looked his direction. "It's time to head home, now. Supper'll be ready before long, and you two will have to dry out!"

The boys reluctantly left the water, gathered the few things they'd left on the shore, and mounted their horses.

In sock feet, the boys snuck past all the other bedrooms and down the stairs. Joe went right to his father's gun holster and handed it to Sam. Then he picked up Adam's and herded Sam out the front door.

They walked as far away from the house as they could in the dark, which was a little ways past the bunk house. They sat down and unrolled the gunbelts. Each boy unsheathed a gun and looked at it.

"Does your Pa let you shoot?" Sam asked.

"Only when I'm with him or Adam. Hoss has a gun, but Pa won't let me shoot with him alone. What about you?"

"No, my Pa doesn't. He says I can try it when I'm eleven." Sam pointed the gun at Joe and pretended to fire. "Pow!"

Joe pushed the other boy's arm down. "Hey! Maybe we should unload 'em."

"Good idea." The two set to work unloading the guns, and then played wth them freely. Before long, they were wearing the huge gunbelts and having mock shootouts.

"It's getting really late," Joe said. "Maybe we should get back to the house."

Sam couldn't suppress a yawn as he agreed. The boys reloaded the guns and carried the gunbelts back to the house.

By the third night, the boys were getting bored with their new game. Joe thought of something else that would be fun. Once the two reached their hiding spot, he pulled a small flask out of his pocket.

"Is that-" Sam asked in surprise.

"Whiskey," Joe nodded, a devilish grin on his face.

"But won't it make us drunk?"

Joe shrugged. "I guess. Only one way to find out." He uncorked the bottle and smelled it. Then he made a face.

"Let me smell," Sam said. Joe stretched out his arm and Sam sniffed the potent liquid. "It smells kinda bad," he stated.

"Yeah," said Joe, "but a lot of people like it." He held his breath and took a quick swig. This was followed by a cough.

"Well?" Sam asked.

"Maybe it takes more," Joe said, and took another drink. After two or three

drinks, Sam tried it as well.

Joe giggled. "My face feels hot." He turned his body to face his friend, and had to throw out a hand to balance himself. "I'm kinda dizzy," he said, and giggled again.

"Me, too," Sam slurred.

"Hey," Joe said. "You're talkin' nuffy."

Sam giggled so loudly that Joe shushed him, lest he wake someone in the bunkhouse. "You said, 'nuffy' instead of 'funny,'" he cried.

When the bottle was empty, Joe tossed it aside. Sam crawled over and retrieved it. "I got an idea," he announced. He picked up the gunbelt and walked into the darkness, further from the house. Joe did the same.

Reaching a point that he felt was satisfactory, Sam stopped. He set the empty bottle on the fencepost and walked ten paces back. He picked up the gunbelt and put it on. Joe rushed to him and laid his hands on his shoulders. "Hey, wait a minute! I don't think we should-"

"Aw, they won't hear us," Sam said as he shook out of Joe's grip. "Besides, you don't have to do it if you're scared."

Joe stepped away from Sam and put Adam's gunbelt on. "All right, then."

Sam let his fingers hang over the heavy gun. He eyed the bottle, pretending it was an outlaw. Suddenly, he drew and fired.

Joe laughed. "You missed!"

Sam was angry. "Oh yeah, well, you try it!"

Joe took his position. The holster was awkward, being placed backwards to hang on his left. He counted to ten, and drew. Joe's shot hit the post, but not the bottle. After two more shots, the bottle shattered. Joe was the victor.

"Well, I still bet I'm quicker than you!" Sam challenged.

"Now, wait a minute, Sam, somebody could get hurt!" Joe protested, but Sam was pushing Joe back. Sam ran to the fenceline and stood at the ready. "Sam, c'mon, I don't wanna-" Joe saw Sam draw. Instantly, he drew and fired, hitting the fencerail at the post. The rail snapped in two pieces, and one hit Sam on the head, knocking him out. Joe dropped the gun and began to cry. He ran to Sam and tried to wake him up. Joe picked up his father's gun and fired it in the air until it was out of bullets. Then he did the same with Adam's, until he heard horses and shouting.