eep himself steady by watching the trail. He
rode through a little clearing, where the grass was matted and some
naked rocks reared aloft. Near a clump of sage-brush he saw a sudden
movement--a rattler trying to slip away unnoticed. But the snake slid
into Ferguson's vision and with a sneer of hate he drew one of his
weapons and whipped it over his head, its roar awakening echoes in the
wood. Twice, three times, the crashing report sounded. But the
rattler whisked away and disappeared into the grass--apparently
uninjured.

For an instant Ferguson scowled. Then a grin of mockery reached his
flushed face.

"I reckon I'm done," he said. "Can't even hit a rattler no more, an'
him a brother or sister of that other one." A delirious light flashed
suddenly in his eyes, and he seemed on the point of dismounting. "I'll
cert'nly smash you some!" he said, speaking to the snake--which he
could no longer see. "I ain't goin' to let no snake bite me an' get
away with it!"

But he now smiled guiltily, embarrassment shining in his eyes. "I
reckon that wasn't the snake that bit you, Ferguson," he said. "The
one that bit you is back on the trail. He ain't goin' to die till
sundown. Not till sundown," he repeated mechanically, grimly;
"Ferguson ain't goin' to die till sundown."

He rode on, giving no attention to the pony whatever, but letting the
reins fall and holding to the pommel of the saddle. His face was
burning now, his hands were twitching, and an unnatural gleam had come
into his eyes.

"Ferguson got hooked by a rattler!" he suddenly exclaimed, hilarity in
his voice. "He run plum into that reptile; tried to walk on him with a
bare foot." The laugh was checked as suddenly as it had come, and a
grim quality entered his voice. "But Ferguson wasn't no tenderfoot--he
didn't scare none. He went right on, not sayin' anything. You see, he
was reckonin' to be man's size."

He rode on a little way, and as he entered another clearing a rational
gleam came into his eyes. "I'm still a-goin' it," he muttered.

A shadow darkened the trail; he heard Mustard whinny. He became aware
of a cabin in front of him; heard an exclamation; saw dimly the slight
figure of a woman, sitting on a small porch; as through a mist, he saw
her rise and approach him, standing on the edge of the porch, looking
at him.

He smiled, bowing low to her over his pony's mane.

"I shot him, ma'am," he said gravely, "but he ain't goin' to die