A flat came into sight ahead and a yell burst from Ralston--a yell that was unexpected to himself. A wave of exultation which seemed to come from without swept over him. He touched the mare with the spur, and she skimmed the rocks as if his weight on her back were nothing. It was smoother, and he was close enough now to use his best weapon. He thrust the empty rifle into its scabbard, and shot at Smith's horse with his six-shooter. It stumbled; then its knees doubled under it, and Smith turned in the air. The game was up; Smith was afoot. He picked up his hat and dusted his coat-sleeve while he waited, and his face was yellow and evil. "That was a dum good horse," was Babe's single comment as he rode up. "Get back to camp!" said Ralston peremptorily, and Smith, in his high-heeled, narrow-soled boots, stumbled ahead of them without a word. He looked at Tubbs's body without surprise. Sullen and surly, he felt no regret that Tubbs, braggart and fool though he was, was dead. Smith had no conscience to remind him that he himself was responsible. Babe shook out Smith's blue army blanket and rolled Tubbs in it. Smith had bought it from a drunken soldier, and he had owned it a long time. It was light and almost water-proof; he liked it, and he eyed Babe's action with disfavor. "I reckon this gent will have to spend the day in a tree," said Babe prosaically. "Couldn't you use no other blanket nor that?" demanded Smith. It was the first time he had spoken. "Don't take on so," Babe replied comfortingly. "They furnish blankets where you're goin'." He went on with his work of throwing a hitch around Tubbs with his picket-rope. Ralston divided the scanty rations which Smith and Tubbs, and he and Babe, had brought with them. He made coffee, and handed a cup to Smith first. The latter arose and changed his seat. "I never could eat with a corp' settin' around," he said disagreeably. Smith's fastidiousness made Babe's jaw drop, and a piece of biscuit which had made his cheek bulge inadvertently rolled out, but was skillfully intercepted before it reached the ground. "I hope you'll excuse us, Mr. Smith," said Babe, bowing as well as he could sitting cross-legged on the ground. "I hope you'll overlook our forgittin' the napkins and toothpicks." When they had finished, they slung Tubbs's body into a tree, beyond the reach of coyotes. The cattle they left to drift back to their range. Tubbs's horse was saddled for Smith, and, with Ralston holding the lead rope and Babe in the rear, the procession started back to the ranch.