knew, however, that a hat was slowly coming into view around a side of
the rock, and he was positive that this time there was a head in the
hat. He could not have told now he knew there was a head in the hat,
but that was his conviction.

The hat appeared slowly, gradually taking on definite shape in
Sanderson's eyes, until, with a cold grin, he noted some brown flesh
beneath it, and a section of dark beard.

Sanderson did not fire, then. The full head followed the hat, then
came a man's shoulders. Nothing happened. The man stepped from behind
the rock and stood out in full view. Still nothing happened.

The man grinned.

"I reckon we got him, Cal," he said. His voice was gloating. "I
reckoned I'd got him; he tumbled sorta offish--like it had got him in
the guts. That's what I aimed for, anyway. I reckon he done suffered
some, eh?" He guffawed, loudly.

Then the other man appeared. He, too, was grinning.

"I reckon we'll go see. If you got him where you said you got him, I
reckon he done a lot of squirmin'. Been followin' us--you reckon?"

They descended the slope of the hill, still talking. Evidently,
Sanderson's silence had completely convinced them that they had killed
him.

But halfway down the hill, one of the men, watching the rock near