"Did you kill Trim?" repeated Halsey, his voice hoarse with excitement, and trembling like an aspen.
"Wol," said his companion, still eyeing him curiously, "ef you mean the man, I didn't. I got the hoss instead."
"Thank God," cried Halsey fervently, but Hank continued to stare. "It was my Uncle Hillery, the only father I ever knew," said Halsey when the suspense had become unbearable. "Are you sure you didn't hit him?"
"Perfectly sure," said Hank solemnly. "Gosh all hemlock, it was your uncle! Gosh a'mighty! When I plugged the hoss he wavered for a minute on the edge of the cliff and the old man slipped from his back and ran into the bushes, but the hoss he went over the cliff."
"Poor Sultan," said Halsey. "But I am not sure about Uncle Hillery."
The words were barely out of his lips when a hunting rifle cracked in the bushes along the side of the mountain and a bullet
