t Pete in a last venomous effort to kill.

[Illustration: Cotton heard Pete's hand strike the butt of his gun as
the holster tilted up.]

"You seen it was an even break," said Pete, turning to Cotton, who
immediately sank to his knees and implored Pete not to kill him.

"But I reckon you'd lie, anyhow," continued Pete, paying no attention
to the other's mouthings. "Hunt your cayuse--and git a-movin'."

Cotton understood that. Glancing over his shoulder at Gary he turned
and ran toward the timber. Pete stepped to the crumpled figure and
gazed at the bubbling hole in the chest. Then he stepped hack and
mechanically holstered his gun which he had pulled as he spoke to
Cotton. "They'll git me for this," he whispered to himself. "It was
an even break--but they'll git me." Pete fought back his fear with a
peculiar pride--the pride that scorned to appear frightened before his
chum, Andy White. The quarrel had occurred so unexpectedly and
terminated so suddenly, that Pete could not yet realize the full extent
of the tragedy. While quite conscious of what he was doing and
intended to do, he felt as though he were walking in a horrible dream
from which he would never awaken. His instincts were as keen as
ever--for he was already planning his next move--but his sensibilities
had suffered a blunt shock--were numb to all external influence. He
knew that the sun was shining, yet he did not feel its warmth. He was
walking toward the cabin, and toward Andy. He stumbled as he walked,
taking no account of the irregularities of the ground. He could hardly
believe that he had killed Gary. To convince himself against his own
will he mechanically drew his gun and glanced at the two empty shells.
"Three and two is five," he muttered. "I shot twict." He did not
realize that Gary had shot at him--that a shred of his flannel shirt
was dangling from his sleeve where Gary's bullet had cut it. "Wonder
if Andy heard?" he kept asking himself. "I got to tell Andy."

Almost before he realized it he was standing under the cedar and Andy
was speaking. "Thought I heard some one shoot, over toward the woods."

As Pete did not answer, Andy thought that the horse had got away from
him. "Did you get him?" he queried.

Pete nodded dully. "I got him. He's over there--in the brush."

"Why didn't you fetch him in? Did he get the best of you? You look
like he give you a tussle."

"I got him--twict," said Pete.

"Twict? Say, Pet