off--tho' ez a general rule drunken men don't, and he is a good rider--I
followed down the road, lookin' for him. I kept on follerin' it down to
your run, half a mile below."

"But," began Harkutt, with a quick nervous laugh, "you don't reckon that
because of that he"--

"Hold on!" said Peters, grimly producing a revolver from his side-pocket
with the stock and barrel clogged and streaked with mud. "I found THAT
too,--and look! one barrel discharged! And," he added hurriedly, as
approaching a climax, "look ye,--what I nat'rally took for wet from the
rain--inside that hat--was--blood!"

"Nonsense!" said Harkutt, putting the hat aside with a new
fastidiousness. "You don't think"--

"I think," said Peters, lowering his voice, "I think, by God! HE'S BIN
AND DONE IT!"

"No!"

"Sure! Oh, it's all very well for Billings and the rest of that
conceited crowd to sneer and sling their ideas of 'Lige gen'rally as
they did jess now here,--but I'd like 'em to see THAT." It was difficult
to tell if Mr. Peters' triumphant delight in confuting his late
companions' theories had not even usurped in his mind the importance of
the news he brought, as it had of any human sympathy with it.

"Look here," returned Harkutt earnestly, yet with a singularly cleared
brow and a more natural manner. "You ought to take them things over to