his
animal.

"Now," he said steadily, "when I count three drive your horse aside, and
let go--are you ready?"

"Damn you--yes!"

"Then look out--one! two! three!"

The plainsman struck his horse with the quirt in his left hand, and
sprang swiftly aside so as to clear the flank of the animal, his
shooting arm flung out. There was a flash of flame across Hawley's
saddle, a sharp report, and Keith reeled backward, dropping to his
knees, one hand clutching the sand. Again Hawley fired, but the horse,
startled by the double report, leaped aside, and the ball went wild.
Keith wheeled about, steadying himself with his outstretched hand, and
let drive, pressing the trigger, until, through the haze over his eyes,
he saw Hawley go stumbling down, shooting wildly as he fell. The man
never moved, and Keith endeavored to get up, his gun still held ready,
the smoke circling about them. He had been shot treacherously, as a
cowardly cur might shoot, and he could not clear his mind of the thought
that this last act hid treachery also. But he could not raise himself,
could not stand; red and black shadows danced before his eyes; he
believed he saw the arm of the other move. Like a snake he crept
forward, holding himself up with one hand, his head dizzily reeling, but
his gun held steadily on that black, shapeless object lying on the sand.
Then the revolver hand began to quiver, to shake, to make odd circles;
he couldn't see; it was all black, all nothingness. Suddenly he went
down face first into the sand.

They both lay motionless, the thirsty sand drinking in their life blood,
Hawley huddled up upon his left side, his hat still shading the glazing
eyes, Keith lying flat, his face in the crook of an arm whose hand still
gripped a revolver. There was a grim smile on his lips, as if, even as
he pitched forward, he knew that, after he had been shot to death, he
had gotten his man. The riderless horses gazed at the two figures, and
drifted away, slowly, fearfully, still held in mute subjection to
their dead masters by dangling reins. The sun blazed down from directly
overhead, the heat waves rising and falling, the dead, desolate desert
stretching to the sky. An hour, two hours passed. The horses were now a
hundred yards away, nose to nose; all else was changeless. Then into the
far northern sky there rose a black speck, growing larger and larger;
others came from east and west, beating the air with widely outspread
wings, great bea