And if anything could render his conduct
more theoretically incorrect it was a certain exalted sense that he was
doing quite right and was not only NOT a bad sort of fellow, but one
whom his survivors might possibly regret!
"Are you ready, gentlemen? One--two--three--fi . . . !"
The explosions were singularly simultaneous--so remarkable in fact that
it seemed to the master that his rifle, fired in the air, had given a
DOUBLE report. A light wreath of smoke lay between him and his opponent.
He was unhurt--so evidently was his adversary, for the voice rose again.
"Advance! . . . Hallo there! Stop!"
He looked up quickly to see McKinstry stagger and then fall heavily to
the ground.
With an exclamation of horror, the first and only terrible emotion he
had felt, he ran to the fallen man, as Harrison reached his side at the
same moment.
"For God's sake," he said wildly, throwing himself on his knees beside
McKinstry, "what has happened? For I swear to you, I never aimed at you!
I fired in the air. Speak! Tell him, you," he turned with a despairing
appeal to Harrison, "you must have seen it all--tell him it was not me!"
A half wondering, half incredulous smile passed quickly over Harrison's
face.
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