His hand went down and came up, and I shot him in the belly, shooting three times, as fast as I could slip the hammer, a steady roar of sound, with no breaks.
Heseltine got off only one shot into the floor.
He went to his knees, started to get up, then Just rolled over.
It was a moment, a long moment, before I could believe he was dead.
Suddenly the man with the badge was in the door-way. “He came back,” I said. “He came back.” ‘I thought he would,” he said.
The stage driver stuck his head in the door.
“Stage leaving,” he said.
“All who’re going, get aboard.” “Get on,” I told Vashti and her pa. “You get aboard.
I’ll ride along after.” And that was how I returned to California.
The End