He felt his nerves become as steel as the
counting began, and at the word "three," knew he had fired by the recoil
of the pistol in his leveled hand, simultaneously with its utterance.
And at the same moment, still standing like a rock, he saw his
adversary miserably collapse, his legs grotesquely curving inwards
under him,--without even the dignity of death in his fall,--and so sink
helplessly like a felled bull to the ground. Still erect, and lowering
only the muzzle of his pistol, as a thin feather of smoke curled up its
shining side, he saw the doctor and seconds run quickly to the heap, try
to lift its limp impotence into shape, and let it drop again with the
words, "Right through the forehead, by G-d!"
"You've done for him," said the deputy, turning to Clarence with a
singular look of curiosity, "and I reckon you had better get out of this
mighty quick. They didn't expect it; they're just ragin'; they may round
on you--and"--he added, more slowly, "they seem to have just found out
who you are."
Even while he was speaking, Clarence, with his quickened ear, heard the
words, "One of Hamilton Brant's pups" "Just like his father," from
the group around the dead man. He did not hesitate, but walked coolly
towards them.
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