PAINTED ROCK
now, and he knew that there was but little time to take his choice of action. He stood irresolute, and Gedge says his hands showed that he had no nerve, for they opened and shut, and the bulk of the man trembled. He stood and stared, and then he spoke, not like a man, but like a beaten thing that plucks up courage to pretend to courage as a last effort for life. And yet there is no saying that he might not have carried it off if he had followed his one chance of salvation to its end.
"Oh, to be sure, my old friend Smith."
His voice shook. More than Gedge say that, and yet he took a half-step towards his enemy. If he had laughed and gone right up to Smith, the old man might have broken down in his intent. So strange a thing the mind is! But at the first half-step the little pretence of courage failed in the man who had none. It was horrible to be confronted with this ghost of the past, and to see that this was a man who cared not for life. Hale stopped and his lip fell, and he turned—and ran!
I heard the sound of two quick shots, and, when I came to the American Saloon, Hale
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