intruder, a mere boy of nineteen or
twenty for all of his uniform jump back to escape being run down. At
the same moment the roan swerved and its rider caught a glimpse of the
aroused men by the house. Some were springing from their horses, and
he could see the rifles going to their shoulders. He passed the kitchen
door and the dried corpses swinging in the shade, compelling his foes to
run around the front of the house. A rifle cracked, and a second, but he
was going fast, leaning forward, low in the saddle, one hand clutching
the shirt of apples, the other guiding the horse.

The top bar of the fence was four feet high, but he knew his roan and
leaped it at full career to the accompaniment of several scattered
shots. Eight hundred yards straight away were the woods, and the roan
was covering the distance with mighty strides. Every man was now firing.
pumping their guns so rapidly that he no longer heard individual shots.
A bullet went through his hat, but he was unaware, though he did know
when another tore through the apples on the pommel. And he winced and
ducked even lower when a third bullet, fired low, struck a stone between
his horse's legs and ricochetted off through the air, buzzing and
humming like some incredible insect.

The shots died down as the magazines were emptied, until, quickly, there
was no more shooting. The young man was elated. Through that astonishing
fusillade he had come unscathed. He glanced back. Yes, they had emptied
their magazines. He could see several reloading. Others were running
back behind the house for their horses. As he looked, two already
mounted, came back into view around the corner, riding hard. And at the
same moment, he saw the man with the unmistakable ginger beard kneel
down on the ground, level his gun, and coolly take his time for the long
shot.

The young man threw his spurs into the horse, crouched very low, and
swerved in his flight in order to distract the other's aim. And still
the shot did not come. With each jump of the horse, the woods sprang
nearer. They were only two hundred yards away and still the shot was
delayed.

And then he heard it, the last thing he was to hear, for he was dead ere
he hit the ground in the long crashing fall from the saddle. And they,
watching at the house, saw him fall, saw his body bounce when it struck
the earth, and saw the burst of red-cheeked apples that rolled about
him. They laughed at the unexpected eruption of apples, an