trides. On foot
Sorenson was no match for him. But the latter had the start; he was
now almost within reach of the thick screen of bushes; and he bent
every energy to make the ambuscade.

Still running, Weir flung up his gun and fired. Close the shot must
have gone to Sorenson, so close as to inject into the man's mind
recollection of his pursuer's accuracy and a fear of a bullet in his
back, for when within twenty feet of the bushes he dropped behind a
small bowlder, whence he fired twice at Weir but without striking his
mark.

Neither man after the furious ride and the concluding run on foot was
fit for sure marksmanship. This Weir realized, so stopped where he was
some forty feet off from Sorenson's stone in order to regain his
breath and calm his nerves. Of the cattleman he could see nothing; the
man crouched low out of sight, perhaps reloading his weapon, perhaps
steeling himself for a dash across that small moonlit space that
separated him from safety, or perhaps preparing for a quick upward
spring and a fresh volley directed at his foe.

It may be questioned if in his heart Sorenson was not almost disposed
to fight the matter out. He was no coward; his original hatred for the
engineer had by recent events been swelled to a diabolical desire to
kill; and now even if he, Sorenson, succeeded in slipping away, his
whereabouts would be known unless he destroyed the man. Safety
demanded that he not only escape but escape without this witness.

Weir had not sought cover. He stood upright, his revolver ready,
trusting to have an advantage in his speed when it came to an exchange
of shots. Then he began an advance, a slow noiseless circling advance
that at the same time of taking him closer to his enemy brought him
round on his flank.

Sorenson's hand and pistol appeared and half his face while three
shots rattled from his gun, two at the spot where Weir had been and
one at him in his new position, which the hiding man had immediately
located. The last shot ticked the engineer's sleeve. In return Weir
fired twice, the first bullet striking the rock and ricocheting off
with a loud whine, while the second struck the pistol from Sorenson's
hand.

Instantly Weir sprang forward.

"Show yourself," he ordered. And the kneeling fugitive, disarmed,
gripping his bleeding hand, sullenly arose to his feet. "You've led me
a chase, but I have you at last," the engineer continued. "Now you're
going back to San Mateo and jail.