At the edge of the depression he paused and stared at
the two figures that huddled close together a few feet ahead. Both
were gazing toward the trail and in the moonlight he recognized the
face of the pilgrim. With a smile of satisfaction the half-breed stood
erect and advanced boldly.
"You com' in tam', eh?" he asked, as with a nod Endicott stepped toward
him and handed him the revolver.
"Yes, just in time. I am deeply grateful to you."
"Eh?" The other's brows drew together.
"I say, I thank you--for the gun, and for telling me----"
"Ha, dat's a'right. W'er' Purdy?" The girl shuddered, as Endicott
pointed to the ground at some little distance away. The man advanced
and bent over the prostrate form.
"Ba goss!" he exclaimed with a glance of admiration. "You shoot heem
after de draw! _Nom de Dieu_! You good man wit' de gun! Wer' you hit
heem?"
Endicott shook his head. "I don't know. I saw him, and shot, and he
fell." The half-breed was bending over the man on the ground.
"You shoot heem on he's head," he approved, "dat pret' good place." He
bent lower and a sibilant sound reached the ears of Endicott and the
girl. After a moment the man stood up and came toward them smiling.
"A'm fin' out if she dead," he explained, casually. "A'm speet de
tobac' juice in he's eye.
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