ring.

"Two!"

McCulloch moved again. He stooped with almost incredible swiftness and
seized his gun, and the next moment two loud reports rang out, and he
threw his smoking weapon upon the ground.

Arizona had not moved, though his face had gone a shade paler. He knew
he was wounded.

"Three!"

The American bent and seized his gun as the other made a dash for his
horse. He stood up, and took deliberate aim. The half-breed was in the
act of swinging himself into his saddle. A shot rang out, and the
would-be fugitive's foot fell out of the stirrup, and his knees gave
under him. Another shot split the air, and, without so much as a
groan, the man fell in a heap upon the ground, while a thick red
stream flowed from a wound at his left temple.

Then silence reigned once more.

After a while the sound of a slouching gait disturbed the grim peace
of the lonely bluff. Arizona shuffled slowly off the road. He reached
the edge of the bush; but he went no further. For he reeled, and his
hands clasped his body somewhere about his chest. His eyes were half
closed, and his face looked ghastly in the wintry light. By a great
effort he steadied himself and abruptly sat down in the snow. He was
just off the track and his back was against a bush.

Leaning forward he drew his knees up and clasped his arms about them,
and remained rocking himself slowly to and fro. And, as he sat, he
felt something moist and warm saturating his clothes about his chest.
Several times he nodded and his lips moved, and his eyelids fell lower
and lower until he saw nothing of what was about him. He knew it was
over for him and he was satisfied.

He remained for some time in this attitude. Once he opened his eyes
and looked round, but, somehow, he drew no satisfaction from what he
beheld. The world about him seemed unsteady and strangely dark. The
snow was no longer white, but had turned gray, and momentarily it grew
darker. He thankfully reclosed his eyes and continued to nurse
himself. Now, too, his limbs began to grow cold, and to feel useless.
He had difficulty in keeping his hands fast about his knees, but he
felt easy, and even comfortable. There was something soothing to him
in that warm tide which he felt to be flowing from somewhere about his
chest.

The minutes slipped away and the man's lips continued their silent
movement. Was he praying for the soul which he knew to be passing from
his body? It may have been so. It may have been that