You have to aim in the right places. Don’t want you killing anyone. Hit a man in the leg if you can.” She fired the pistol and hit the upper thigh of the stuffed man. “That’ll stop him from coming after you. If they figure out what we’re doing and you kill a man, you’ll end up swinging from a tree at the end of a rope.” She checked the gun, wiped it with a cloth, and handed it to me. “Even if they don’t catch you, killing anything hurts your soul. Ain’t none of these white men worth you harming your soul. Remember that. They’ve taken enough of us, and they don’t get any more.
