His face darkened as he dropped the rifle out of the hollow of his arm and inspected the percussion cap, when Merriwell and the others came into view around a bend in the path. “He’ll never hunt anuther moonshiner!” Thornton grated, through his set teeth. “He’d better be a-sayin’ of his prayers when I pull down on him with this ole Bet!” Nell heard the grated threat, and shivered, but the look of determination grew in her white, thin face and shone brighter in her glittering eyes. Thornton waited until the party was near enough to make the shot safe, but still far enough off to enable him to plunge into the undergrowth and lose himself to pursuit before any one could reach him. Then he threw the long rifle to his cheek, ran his eyes down the brown barrel, and covered Frank Merriwell’s heart with the sights. Though his eyes were blazing, his muscles seemed as steady as iron. The finger pressed the trigger, and there was a whip-like report. But the bullet did not reach Frank Merriwell! Just as Thornton’s finger pressed on the trigger, Nell leaped from the bushes that screened her and caught at his arm, thrusting the rifle aside. With a shriek, Ward Hammond threw up his arms and dropped to the ground. The bullet intended for Merriwell had lodged in the body of his enemy. CHAPTER X—NELL’S LETTER “How is Hammond this morning?” Frank anxiously asked of Browning, whom he joined near the boathouse. “Have the doctors found the bullet yet?” Bruce had just come from the village, whither he had gone to make inquiry concerning Hammond’s condition. “Yes,” he answered, as they walked together toward the cottage. “They extracted it this morning. It struck a rib, and the wound isn’t as bad as it might be. He’ll be laid up for a time, they say. There is no question but that he’ll get well.” “I’m glad to hear it,” was Frank’s sincere rejoinder. “I thought he was a goner when I saw him drop near me at the crack of that gun.” “Hello! what’s this?” Bruce exclaimed, a moment later, as they entered his room. He stepped quickly to the little table, and took up a bunch of flowers, to which was tied a note, oddly scrawled and spelled. It was from Nell Thornton, and this is what it said: “I am ergoin’ ter slip in an’ put these on yer table, ’ca’se I hav’ heern that grand folks like ’em, an’ leeve this letter ’bout dad, ’ca’se I thot mebbe ez how you uns would want ter knowl. He hez knocked a hole in his ole still, an’ is ergoin’ ter leeve these mountings, he sez, an’ try ter be ’spectable. So good-by. I node frum the fust thet you warnt no revnoo. “Frum your fr’end furever, “_Nell Thornton._” “She’s an all-right girl,” said Bruce, after a pause, “even if she is rather awkward.” “Bedad, we had better be gittin’ out av the mountains before some more shootin’ takes place,” put in Barney. “That’s right,” came from Harry. “One shot like that is enough.”