he never moved. There he stood, with his hand
on the mane of the old horse. 'Keep back if you're wise, Goring,' says
he, as quiet and steady as if he'd been cattle-drafting. 'I don't want
to have your blood on my head; but if you must----'

Goring had taken so many men in his day that he was got over
confident-like. He thought Starlight would give in at the last moment or
miss him in the rush. My right arm was broken, and now that Jim was
down we might both be took, which would be a great crow for the police.
Anyhow, he was a man that didn't know what fear was, and he chanced it.

Two of the other troopers fired point blank at Starlight as Goring rode
at him, and both shots told. He never moved, but just lifted his rifle
as the other came up at the gallop. Goring threw up his arms, and rolled
off his horse a dying man.

Starlight looked at him for a minute.

'We're quits,' he says; 'it's not once or twice either you've pulled
trigger on me. I knew this day would come.'

Then he sinks down slowly by the side of the old horse and leans against
his fore leg, Rainbow standing quite steady, only tossing his head up
and down the old way. I could see, by the stain on Starlight's mouth and
the blood on his breast, he'd been shot through the lungs.

I was badly hit too, and going in the head, though I didn't feel it so
much at the time. I began to hear voices like in a dream; then my eyes
darkened, and I fell like a log.

When I came to, all the men was off their horses, some round Goring--him
they lifted up and propped against a tree; but he was stone dead, any
one could see. Sir Ferdinand was on his knees beside Starlight, talking
to him, and the other saying a word now and then, quite composed and
quiet-like.

'Close thing, Morringer, wasn't it?' I heard him say. 'You were too
quick for us; another day and we'd been out of reach.'

'True enough. Horses all dead beat; couldn't raise a remount for love or
money.'

'Well, the game's up now, isn't it? I've held some good cards too, but
they never told, somehow. I'm more sorry for Jim--and--that poor girl,
Aileen, than I am for myself.'

'Don't fret--there's a good fellow. Fortune of war, you know. Anything
else?'

Here he closed his eyes, and seemed gone; but he wakes up again, and
begins in a dreamy way. His words came slowly, but his voice never
altered one bit.

'I'm sorry I fired at poor Warrigal now. No dog ever was more faithful
than he has been to me all