He saw Taggart near
the edge of the wood, two hundred yards away, kneeling, his rifle
leveled at them. He yelled to Betty but she did not heed him.
Taggart's bullet sang over his head as the gun in Betty's hands
crashed. Taggart stood quickly erect, his rifle dropped from his hands
as he ran, staggering from side to side, to his horse. He mounted and
fled, his pony running desperately, accompanied by the music of a rifle
that suddenly began popping on the other side of Calumet--Dade's. But
the distance was great, the target elusive, and Dade's bullets sang
futilely.
They watched Taggart until he vanished, his pony running steadily along
a far level, and then Betty turned to see Calumet looking at her with a
twisted, puzzled smile.
"You plugged him, I reckon," he said, nodding toward the vast distance
into which his enemy was disappearing. "Why, it's plumb ridiculous.
If my girl would plug me that way, I'd sure feel--"
His meaning was plain, though he did not finish. She looked at him
straight in the eyes though her face was crimson and her lips trembled
a little.
"You are a brute!" she said. Turning swiftly she began to descend the
slope toward the ranchhouse.
Calumet stood looking after her for a moment, his face working with
various emotions that struggled for expression.
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