and blundered away, leaving a trail of te11-tale sounds.
Somewhere in the rear rang out the clear report of the half-breed’s rifle as he caught the direction of the sound and fired on chance.
“Two can play at that game,” choked Bub, bending as he ran and picking up a rock. Saying this he paused only long enough to hurl the same far off to the right, where its crashing through a clump of trees deceived the half-breed into firing a shot in that direction.
“Ye can’t fool him twice that way,” informed Abner. “He knew the second he pulled the trigger that he’d been fooled. Now he’ll sprint a little to git nearer and end it.”
The last three words caused cold shivers to race up and down Stanley’s spine. He recalled Bub’s words, to the effect that they would find it exciting in the woods, and he regretted his boastful assertion that no situation could be too intense for him. The job with the loading gang appealed to him now as being exceedingly attractive and even the persecution of Gilvey was softened down to a mild annoyance. How secure had been the boarding-house, how kindly the daily associations at the mill.
“Bub” he groaned, “I’m scared about to death.”
