The last word he fairly shrieked; yet not for a second did he forget his victim, nor did his hand tremble. The rifle still transfixed the helpless officer. But the officer was a kindly man, and although he believed himself in peril of his life still, the brave man ever has pity for those touched in the head. He said quietly: “My poor man, lower your weapon and come with me down to yonder camp. Those are Uncle Sam’s troops down there. They will take care of you.” “Ha!” cried the maniac furiously. “I need no one to care for me. I can care for myself. You’d much better be thinking of help for yourself, captain.” “Well, then I’ll go along and look for that help,” said the officer easily. “Don’t move!” “But, my dear fellow----” “Hold! Address no words of kindness to me, for they are thrown away upon one whose duty it is to slay.” “But it surely isn’t your duty to kill _me_!” “Aye--you, too.” “But what have I done to you?” “It matters not. Mankind has done enough to me. I am appointed to slay, and slay I will!” “It’s nice to know your duty so clearly,” said the officer easily. “But aren’t you liable to make a mistake?” “No! Never a mistake. Once I might have made a mistake. That was when I believed I was called of God to kill the redskins only. I know better now.” “Well!” murmured the officer, hoping to catch the madman off his guard, if only for a moment. “I saw the error of my ways,” cried the madman. “I beheld my sins. I had neglected the full measure of my duty.” “So killing redskins didn’t satisfy you, eh?” “Why should I kill the savages alone? I saw white men quite as brutal--aye, more brutal--than the red. I saw them commit the same atrocities. I saw white rangers rip the scalps from the head of their dead foes; I saw the soldiers storm the Indian encampments and kill the squaws and the papoose at the breast! Aye! how much better are the whites than the red men?” “And having seen all this bloody warfare, you wish to add to the sum total of horror by killing everybody you come across, do you, old fellow?” “You are all alike to me. I kill. That is the way I obtain ammunition and arms. The arms and cartridges you carry are mine!” “Oh, I’ll give them to you right now, if you want them,” exclaimed the captain eagerly. “You won’t have to kill me to get them. Really, it isn’t necessary. I’ll do the polite and hand them over.” To himself he thought: “And I’ll hand you something that will do you a lot of good the first chance I get!” But the madman was not to be fooled so easily. “Nay, nay! Your bullets would not fly true for me were you alive,” declared the giant. “I am the Mad Hunter. Have you heard of me?” “I have heard of such a character,” admitted the captain. “I am he, and if you know of me you must know that I show mercy to none--not even to one wearing the uniform you do. No, no! I spare neither my own race--for I was white once, before I became like the beasts that perish--nor the redskin. All fall before me.”