He overtook him swinging up over a slight elevation.
Dead ahead, not more than two miles distant,
he saw a long grove of trees. It gave him
hope. Here was a chance for effective resistance.
Here both he and Johnson could dismount, drive
the horses into shelter, seek shelter themselves,
and open fire upon the posse. His spirits kindled.
He would shoot to kill, as he knew Johnson would
shoot to kill, and then,.with the rangers helplessly
disabled, he would mount Pat, mount the black
this time, and if Johnson became ugly he would
shoot him. Then he would ride to the east, ride
out of this life, and.with the horse take up a decent
existence somewhere, abandoning crime forever.
He would -- ?

More shots from the rear interrupted him.
Evidently the rangers, mounting over the rise
themselves, had also caught sight of the grove.
Evidently, too, they were taking no chances against
such a stand as he was contemplating. At any rate,
the firing became rapid and continuous, and it was
deadly, for suddenly he saw Johnson wilt in the
saddle, drop his revolver, drop the reins, and clutch
at his left arm. Also he heard a cry -- heard it sharp
and clear above the pounding of the gray's hoofs
and the creak and crunch of his own saddle-leather.
"I'm hit! I'm hit, boy! They -- they've got me!"
Pat himself heard the outcry and felt the loosened
rein. It puzzled him. He did not know
whether to keep going or to slacken down. But
he kept on going -- going hard. Yet he would
have welcomed a halt. He was weak and faint.

[[206]]

p205 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p206w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p207

v?