Duke Benedict shook his head. “He’s bluffing. He won’t shoot.” Slattery’s thumb curled back the hammer of the .38. The girl’s body went limp in Slattery’s grip, her eyes huge pools of terror. The sound of Roley Dukes’ nervous cough came loud as a gunshot in the sucked-in silence. Then Slattery started working the girl towards the batwings, and Benedict took two swift steps to cut him off. The color drained from Slattery’s ugly face. “Goddamn you, I’ll shoot!” he almost shrieked. “Shoot and be damned,” said Benedict.