left, and me the rear? If I should get plugged, an' there's any money
for the crowd, I'll count on you two to see that brother Jim gets my
share--he's got more the mother in him than all four of us other
brothers, and--why don't they shoot, do you s'pose?"

"P'r'aps ther ain't nobody but the driver, an' he's got his hands full,
makin' them hosses travel along that lively," suggested Bill Braymer.
"Or mebbe he hain't got time to load. Like enough he's captured the
sheriff, an' is a-takin him off. We've got to be keerful how _we_
shoot."

The men gained steadily on the wagon, and finally Bill Braymer felt sure
enough to shout:

"Halt, or we'll fire!"

The only response was a sudden flash at the rear of the wagon; at the
same instant the challenger's horse fell dead.

"_Hang_ keerfulness about firin'!" exclaimed Braymer. "_I'm_ a-goin' to
blaze away."

Another shot came from the wagon, and Williamson's horse uttered a
genuine cry of anguish and stumbled. The indignant rider hastily
dismounted, and exclaimed:

"It's mighty kind of 'em not to shoot _us_, but they know how to get
away all the same."

"They know too much about shootin' for _me_ to foller 'em any more,"