One of the ropes he discarded because one or two
strands in it were, or might be, a trifle frayed. The others he took
alternately and whirled with a broad loop, standing in the centre of the
room. Of the set one was a little more supple, a little more durable, it
seemed. This he selected and coiled swiftly.
Last of all he lingered--and longest--over his revolvers. Six in all, he
set them in a row along the bed and without delay threw out two to begin
with. Then he fingered the others, tried their weight and balance,
slipped cartridges into the cylinders and extracted them again, whirled
the cylinders, examined the minutest parts of the actions.
They were all such guns as an expert would have turned over with shining
eyes, but finally he threw one aside into the discard; the cylinder
revolved just a little too hard. Another was abandoned after much
handling of the remaining three because to the delicate touch of Nash it
seemed that the weight of the barrel was a gram more than in the other
two; but after this selection it seemed that there was no possible
choice between the final two.
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