The L'Anse sentinel., 1923-02-02

had been thrown from their horses,
the blazing pine tree had left then,
exposed to fire from the house, and
they had not yet caught their mounts
and rallied. Young Bill and himself
however. had tied their horses before
the lightning had struck and had lin
gered In the thickets In front Of the
house for just such chance as had
been given them.
He had not understood why Bruce
had not opened fire on the fleeing
Turner's. He wondered II his enemy
were out Of ammunition. The tragedy
of the Sentinel Pine had had no mean
ing for him; and he had held his rifle
cooked and ready for the instant that
Bruce had shown himself.
Young Bill had heard his little ex-
ultant gasp when Linda and Bruce had
come out into the freight. Plainly
they had kept track of all the attack
Ing party that had been visible, and
supposed that all their enemies had
gone. He felt the movement of 81
mons strong arms as he raised the
rifle. Those arms were never steadler!
In the darkness the younger man
could not see his face. but his own
fancy pictured II with entire clearness.
The eyes were narrowed and red, the
lines cut deep about the bloodhound
lips, and mercy was MS far from him
as from the Killer who hunted on the
distant ridge.
But Simon didn't fire at once. The
two were coming steadily toward him.
and the nearer they were the better
his chance~Of success In the unsteady
light He sat as breathless, as wholly
free from telltale motion as a puma
who waits in ambush for an approach
ing deer. He meant 70 take careful
aim. 1t was his big chance, and he
Intended to make the most of it.
The two had halted beside the
ruined pine, but for moment Simon
held his fire. They stood rather close
together; he wanted to wait until
Bruce offered clear target. And at
that instant Bruce had drawn the
leather wallet from the tree.
Curiosity alone stayed Slmon's finger
as Bruce had opened IT. He saw the
CLEAN of the white paper In the dim
light; and then he understood.
Simon was a man of rigid, unwaver-
ing self-control; and his usual way
was to look long time between the
sights before he fired. Yet the sight
of that document-the missing Folger-
Ross agreement on which had hung
victory or defeat-sent a violent i'm
pulse through all HIS nervous system.
For the first time in his memory his
refexes got away from him.
1t had meant too much; and his fin
ger pressed back involuntarily against
the trigger. He had not taken his us
ual deliberate aim, although he had
seen Bruce's figure clearly between
the sights the instant before he fired.
Simon was riheman, bred In the
bone, and he had no reason to think
that the hasty aim meant n complete
miss. He did realize, however, the
difficulties of night shooting-a real
ization that all men who have fingered
after dusk In the duck blind expert
ence sooner or later-and he looked
up over his sights to see the result OF
his shot. His self-control had COM
pletely returned to him; and he was
perfectly cold about the whole matter.
From the first second he knew he
had not completely missed. He raised
his rifle to shoot again.
But Bruce's body was no longer re-
vealed. Linda stood in the way. 1t
looked as II she had deliberately
thrown her own body as a shield be-
tween.
Simon spoke then-a single, terrible
oath~o hatred and jealousy. But In
second more he saw his triumph.
Bruce swayed, reeled and fell In Lin
da's arms, and he saw her half-drag
him into the house.
He stood shiverlng, but not from
the cold that the storm had brought.
"Come on" he ordered Young Bill.
II think we've downed him for good,
but we've got to get that paper"
But Simon did not see all things
clearly. He had little real knowledge
of the little drama that had followed
his shot from ambush.
Human nature is full Of odd qulrks
and twists, and among other things.
symptoms are misleading. There is
an accepted way for men to act when
they are struck with a rifle bullet.
They are expected to reel, to throw
their arms wide, and usually to cry
out The only trouble with these ac-
tions, as men who have been In bat-
tlefields know very well, Is that they
do not usually happen In real life.
Bruce, with Linda's eyes upon him,
took one rather long, troubled breath.
And he did look somewhat puzzled.
Then he looked down at his shoulder.
I'm hit, Linda" he said in quiet
way. II think just a scratch"
The tremendous shock Of any kind
Of wound from a thirty-forty caliber
bullet had not seemingly affected him
outwardly at all. Some hours were
to pass before he completely under.
stood. The truth was that the shock
Of that rife bullet, ordinarily striking
blow Of a half-ton, had cost him for
the moment an ability to make any