At the first
glimpse of the horseman ahead Bridge had reined his mount
down to a trot that the noise of his approach might thereby
be lessened. He had drawn his revolver from its holster, and
was upon the point of putting spurs to his horse for a sudden
dash upon the fugitive when the man ahead, finally attracted
by the noise of the other's approach, turned in his saddle and
saw him.
Neither recognized the other, and at Bridge's command of,
"Hands up!" Billy, lightning-like in his quickness, drew and
fired. The bullet raked Bridge's hat from his head but left him
unscathed.
Billy had wheeled his pony around until he stood broadside
toward Bridge. The latter fired scarce a second after Billy's
shot had pinged so perilously close--fired at a perfect target
but fifty yards away.
At the sound of the report the robber's horse reared and
plunged, then, wheeling and tottering high upon its hind feet,
fell backward. Billy, realizing that his mount had been hit,
tried to throw himself from the saddle; but until the very
moment that the beast toppled over the man was held by his
cartridge belt which, as the animal first lunged, had caught
over the high horn of the Mexican saddle.
The belt slipped from the horn as the horse was falling, and
Billy succeeded in throwing himself a little to one side.
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