He's got a rifle that reaches and he's a danger."
"Why don't you talk back?" asked Shif'less Sol.
"I will," replied Henry. "We're not at war with Spain, but we are surely
at war with Braxton Wyatt. I think the second man in the boat is Braxton.
Hold her steady just a second, Sol."
Henry shipped his oars, knelt a moment, and up went the long, slender
barrel of his Kentucky rifle. As he looked down the sight he was sure that
the man at whom he was aiming was Braxton Wyatt, and he was sure,
moreover, that he would not miss. But a feeling for which he could not
account made him deflect slightly the muzzle of his weapon.
Braxton Wyatt richly deserved death for crimes already done and he would
be, as long as he lived, a deadly menace to the border. But Henry felt
that he could not be both judge and executioner. He and Braxton Wyatt had
been young boys together. So, when he deflected the muzzle of his rifle,
it was to turn the bullet from his heart to his arm.
The rifle flashed, the sharp report echoed over the flowing waters, and a
cry of pain came from the pursuing boat, which quickly slackened its
speed.
"I hit him in the arm only," said Henry.
Shif'less Sol glanced at his comrade and he understood, but he made no
criticism.
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