Out of Context

Our 200th post

To The Last Man
Zane Grey

Once laid upon the table these presented a formidable arsenal, which consisted of the three new .44 Winchesters that Jean had brought with him from the coast; the enormous buffalo, or so-called “needle” gun, that Gaston Isbel had used for years; a Henry rifle which Blaisdell had brought, and half a dozen six-shooters. Piles and packages of ammunition littered the table.

“Sort out these heah shells,” said Isbel. “Everybody wants to get hold of his own.”

Jacobs, the neighbor who was present, was a thick-set, bearded man, rather jovial among those lean-jawed Texans. He carried a .44 rifle of an old pattern. “Wal, boys, if I’d knowed we was in fer some fun I’d hev fetched more shells. Only got one magazine full. Mebbe them new .44’s will fit my gun.”

It was discovered that the ammunition Jean had brought in quantity fitted Jacob’s rifle, a fact which afforded peculiar satisfaction to all the men present.

“Wal, shore we’re lucky,” declared Gaston Isbel.

The women sat apart, in the corner toward the kitchen, and there seemed to be a strange fascination for them in the talk and action of the men.