mind bullets or pain. His only object was to get at his foe. Twice the revolver cracked again before he had covered half the remaining distance. Each time he was badly wounded, but thus far Hank had not hit a vital spot.
Then the killer did a foolish thing for he reared upon his hind legs and walked forward, striking with his forefeet and gnashing his teeth. Hank afterward said it was the most terrifying sight he had ever seen. To miss now was sure death, but the stallion had made the wrong move for this maneuver slowed up his charge and the cowboy sent two shots into his body and one into his head, and with a last desperate effort the killer charged forward and fell dead almost at Hank's feet. Coolness and the good Colt's revolver had won.
The stallion had barely ceased to struggle and Hank had hardly recovered from the great excitement of the few dramatic moments when he was treated to another surprise for his attention was attracted by some moving object at the very top of the pile of stones where he had thought of taking refuge when the stallion charged.
His first thought was that it was a skulking coyote, but on circling about the pile of stones he soon discovered that it was a small colt, and as he climbed up close to the terrified little horse he saw to his great
