where he could be ambushed from above and a ton or so of loosened rock rolled down upon him, where the trail was not more than a foot wide and the fall deep. And so, this not being at all to his taste, he started on the run behind the man; and, being a good sprinter, he soon had him in sight and near enough so that there was no chance for side-stepping for sinister purposes. In fact, where the curves were sharp and near together, he ran up almost upon the man's heels, and could hear him pant as he ran; and then, where the stretches were longer, he dropped back somewhat, for a bit of breathing space for himself.
And presently he began to be thoroughly amused. The man had followed him up the mountain to murder him, of that there was no question; though why he had not fired the fatal shot was a puzzle, unless he had only just arrived when Dick heard the slight sound which made him turn just in time. Possibly the man had not yet had the opportunity to more than aim the gun, or possibly it had been, as Dick said, buck fever. The man had all of the earmarks of a coward, and it was quite "in the cards" that he had been taken with qualms when he had his game covered. At any rate, he was now being ignominiously chased back down the trail, up which he had come, gun in hand, stalking big game.
At last McKnight began to show evidences of acute exhaustion. He wheezed as he ran, and now
