"The first shot wasn't none fatal, as I could see plainer than was
pleasant. Looked to me like he wanted to string out the agony. It was
a clear case uh butchery from start to finish; the damnedest,
lowest-down act a white man could be guilty of. He empties his
six-gun--counting the smoke-puffs--and waits a minute, watching like a
cat does a gopher. I was sweating cold, but I kept my eyes glued to
them glasses like a man in a nightmare.

"When he makes sure the fellow's dead, he rides alongside and flips
off the rope, with the buckskin snorting and edging off--at the
blood-smell, I reckon. While he's coiling his rope, calm as if he'd
just merely roped a yearling, the buckskin gets his head, plants it
and turns on the fireworks.

"When that hoss starts in pitching, I come alive and drop the glasses
into their case and make a jump for my own hoss. If the Lord lets me
come up with that devil, I aim to deal out a case uh justice on my own
hook; I was in a right proper humor for doing him like he done the
other fellow, and not ask no questions. Looked to me like he had it
coming, all right.

"I'd just stuck my toe in the stirrup, when down comes the fog like a
wet blanket on everything. I couldn't see twenty feet--" Andy stopped
and reached for a burning twig to relight his cigarette. The Happy
Family was breathing hard with the spell of the story.

"Did yuh git him?" Happy Jack asked hoarsely. Andy took a long puff at
his cigarette. "Well, I--Holy smoke! what's the matter with _you_,
Blink?" For Blink was leaning forward, half crouched, like a cat about
to pounce, and was glaring fixedly at Andy with lips drawn back in a