The duel was over. The late friends of Shunan joined the riders who now crowded into the open space from the opposite sides of the arena. "Did he touch ye, boy?" cried old Bill Williams. "No, though he meant it well enough. See, there's a twist of hair gone from the side of my head." "He got your bullet through the hand and wrist," said Williams, as they turned away. "His right arm's done for, for a while. You were a bit the first with your fire, my son," "I know it, and I knew I had need to be. I fired at his hand, and knew I must be a shade the first. I knew if I held true, his aim would be thrown out." As he spoke, he dismounted at the door of his own lodge. There Samuel Parker met him, and cried, "Is it over? Is any one hurt? Has there been murder done?" "There, there, friend," said old Bill Williams, gently, "you bring here still your Yankee way of speech. Besides, 'tis no murder unless some one is killed, and yonder bully Shunan will only have a sore hand for a month or so. 'Twas a lesson that was well needed for him. See now, the camp is quiet already. Men and women may venture out-of-doors in peace and comfort. 'Tis but the law of the mountains you have seen, man." "And as for the law of the Gospel," interrupted Gervais, "they shall have that this night round the fire, if you wish to speak." The minister gazed from one to the other with emotions new to him. "And you, sir," he said, extending his hand to the young man who had thus stoutly championed him, "who are you? Whom shall I thank for this strange act--for this strange justice of the mountains, as you call it?" The bronzed men who stood or sat their horses near at hand gazed from one to another, smiling, At last old Bill Williams broke out into a laugh. "Man," cried he, "'tis easily seen you're fresh from the States! What, not know the best man in all the Rockies? There is but one could have done this deed so well. We have few courts here, but whenever we've needed a sheriff of our own we've had one, and here he is. So you did not know Kit Carson!" THE STORY OF GRACE DARLING Anonymous On the evening of Wednesday, September 5, the steamship Forfarshire left Hull for Dundee, carrying a cargo of iron, and having some forty passengers on board. The ship was only eight years old; the master, John Humble, was an experienced seaman; and the crew, including firemen and engineers, was complete. But even before the vessel left the dock one passenger at least had felt uneasily that something was wrong--that there was an unusual commotion among officials and sailors. Still, no alarm was given, and at dusk the vessel steamed prosperously down the Humber River.