in kind. My blade met his with
a shock that jarred my arm to the shoulder.

I saw him give back, pull off his mad horse and look at his hand, where
his own sword was broken off, a foot above the hilt. Smiling, he saluted
with it, reigning back his horse, and no more afraid of me than if I
were a child. He did not speak, nor did I. I pulled up my own horse, not
wishing to take the advantage that now was mine, but knowing that he
would not yield--that I must kill him.

He did so at his own peril who took Orme for a dullard. I watched him
closely. He saluted again with his broken sword, and made as though to
toss it from him, as indeed he did. Then like a flash his hand dropped
to his holster.

I read his thought, I presume, when he made his second salute. His
motion of tossing away the sword hilt gave me the fraction of time which
sometimes is the difference between life and death. Our fire was almost
at the same instant, but not quite. His bullet cut the epaulet clean
from my left shoulder; but he did not fire again, nor did I. I saw him
straighten up in his saddle, precisely as I had once seen an Indian
chieftain do under Orme's own fire. He looked at me with a startled
expression on his face.

At that moment there came from the edge of the woods the crack of a
musket. The great horse Satan pitched his head forward and dropped limp,
sinking to his knees. As he rolled he caught his rider under him. I
myself sprung down, shouting out some command toward the edge of the
wood, that they should leave this man to me.

Whether my men heard me or not I do not know. Perhaps they heard rather
the hoarse shouts of a fresh column in gray which came up in the
pursuit, fagged with its own running. When these new men passed me all
they saw was a bit of wood torn with shot and ball, and in the open two
figures, both dusty and gray, one helping the other from what seemed to
be a fall of his horse. Scenes like that were common. We were not
disturbed by the men of either side. We were alone presently, Gordon
Orme and I.

I stooped and caught hold of the hind leg of the great black horse, and
even as I had once turned a dead bull, so now I turned this carcass on
its back. I picked up the fallen rider and carried him to the woods, and
there I propped his body against a tree. Slowly he opened his eyes, even
pulled himself up more fully against the support.

"Thank you, old man," he said. "The horse was deucedly heavy--spoiled
that l