Like father like son!"



CHAPTER II

A thought kept repeating itself to Duane, and it was that he
might have spared himself concern through his imagining how
awful it would be to kill a man. He had no such feeling now. He
had rid the community of a drunken, bragging, quarrelsome
cowboy.

When he came to the gate of his home and saw his uncle there
with a mettlesome horse, saddled, with canteen, rope, and bags
all in place, a subtle shock pervaded his spirit. It had
slipped his mind--the consequence of his act. But sight of the
horse and the look of his uncle recalled the fact that he must
now become a fugitive. An unreasonable anger took hold of him.

"The d--d fool!" he exclaimed, hotly. "Meeting Bain wasn't
much, Uncle Jim. He dusted my boots, that's all. And for that
I've got to go on the dodge."

"Son, you killed him--then?" asked the uncle, huskily.

"Yes. I stood over him--watched him die. I did as I would have
been done by."

"I knew it. Long ago I saw it comin'. But now we can't stop to
cry over spilt blood. You've got to leave town an' this part of