"I reckon we got him, Cal," he said. His voice was gloating. "I
reckoned I'd got him; he tumbled sorta offish--like it had got him in
the guts. That's what I aimed for, anyway. I reckon he done suffered
some, eh?" He guffawed, loudly.
Then the other man appeared. He, too, was grinning.
"I reckon we'll go see. If you got him where you said you got him, I
reckon he done a lot of squirmin'. Been followin' us--you reckon?"
They descended the slope of the hill, still talking. Evidently,
Sanderson's silence had completely convinced them that they had killed
him.
But halfway down the hill, one of the men, watching the rock near
Sanderson as he walked, saw the muzzle of Sanderson's rifle projecting
from between the two rocks.
For the second time since the appearance of Sanderson on the scene the
man discharged his rifle from the hip, and for the second time he
missed the target.
Sanderson, however, did not miss. His rifle went off, and the man fell
without a sound. The other, paralyzed from the shock, stood for an
instant, irresolute, then, seeming to discover from where Sanderson's
bullet had come, he raised his rifle.
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