.

Again Keith rose in his stirrups, rubbing the mist out of his eyes that
he might see clearer, and stared ahead. What was that away out yonder?
a shadow? a spot dancing before his tortured vision? or a moving, living
something which he actually saw? He could not tell, he could not be
sure, yet he straightened up expectantly, shading his eyes, and
never losing sight of the object. It moved, grew larger, darker, more
real--yet how it crawled, crawled, crawled toward him. It seemed as
if the vague, shapeless thing would, never take form, never stand
out revealed against the sky so he could determine the truth. He had
forgotten all else--the silent desert, the blazing sun, the burning
wind--all his soul concentrated on that speck yonder. Suddenly it
disappeared--a swale in the sand probably--and, when it rose into view
again, he uttered a cry of joy--it was a horse and rider!

Little by little they drew nearer one another, two black specks in that
vast ocean of sand, the only moving, living things under the brazen
circle of the sky. Keith was ready now, his eyes bright, the cocked
revolver gripped hard in his hand. The space between them narrowed, and
Hawley saw him, caught a glimpse of the face under the broad hat brim,
the burning eyes surveying him. With an oath he stopped his horse,
dragging at his gun, surprised, dazed, yet instantly understanding.
Keith also halted, and across the intervening desert the eyes of the
two men met in grim defiance. The latter wet his dry lips, and spoke
shortly: "I reckon you know what this means, Hawley, and why I am here.
We're Southerners both of us, and we settle our own personal affairs.
You've got to fight me now, man to man."

The gambler glanced about him, and down at his horse. If he thought of
flight it was useless. His lip curled with contempt.

"Damn your talking, Keith," he returned savagely. "Let's have it over
with," and spurred his horse. The gun of the other came up.

"Wait!" and Hawley paused, dragging at his rein. "One of us most likely
is going to die here; perhaps both. But if either survives he'll need a
horse to get out of this alive. Dismount; I'll do the same; step away
so the horses are out of range, and then we'll fight it out--is that
square?"

Without a word, his eyes gleaming with cunning hatred, the gambler swung
down from his saddle onto the sand, his horse interposed between him and
the other. Keith did the same, his eyes peering across the back of