It was only when Lem had turned back that he fully established the identity of his assailant, who had started to grow a beard. In his excitement and utter amazement, he had not heard the footsteps behind him. However, he received another shock when he saw Buddy run up to the prostrate McGill and thrust the muzzle of his rifle against the man's side. The infuriated Buddy was on the verge of pulling the trigger when Lem sprang forward and grabbed the rifle out of his brother's hands. The irate boy shot an inquiring look at Lem. "Warn't he layin' t' kill yo'--hain't I bin watchin' em fo' mo'n a hour?" protested Bud, plainly disgusted with his brother's interference. "Didn't I break his ole damn shotgun when he drinked hisse'f asleep, an' take his loads out--heah they air--now--now--see?--an' yo' hain't 'lowin' t' kill em?--when he plugged me twict in Junction City?" Buddy shook his head savagely, and glared at the unconscious form lying prone and inert on its back. "Now yo' jest hol' yore han'," panted Lem. "Sho'--I'm aimin' to kill em, kill em?--I'll kill em twict er three times--I will----" He cast an anxious, wistful look behind him, then ran a dozen yards down the path, turned and plunged crazily back again, and acted like he had suddenly gone daft. He was mumbling muddled words that Buddy could not make out. Buddy had never before seen his brother in such a confused flurry. "Sho'--I'll kill em, Buddy," reiterated the flustrated Lem, "but I hain't 'lowin' to kill em thes minit--his haid air busted ag'in' that rock--he don't know nothin'--an' I want em to know who kilt em, I do--I want em to see me--I want em to know that Lem Lutts keetched em at last." "Whut yo' a runnin' roun' like a shot deer fo'?" interrupted Buddy in alarm. "I want em to know thet he air a payin' in to Lem Lutts fo' all his other divilmint--an' fo' shootin' a boy--yo'--all watch em, Buddy--keep your gun on em when he wakes up, an' don't yo' plug em--hold em 'til I git back--Gawd'll Moughty! I got to go----" The gravel scattered and there was a rush of feet. Buddy looked around and saw Lem tearing off down the trail like a being distraught, and even faster than he had appeared a few moments since. Nonplussed at his brother's conduct, amazed, he waited sulkily. With fiery, belligerent eyes Buddy regarded the motionless figure of McGill. The terrible, pitiless hate that seethed and flamed in Buddy's heart for the fallen foe lying on the ground before him had superseded a measure of his natural curiosity concerning his brother's frantic and lightning-like appearance and his sudden and frenzied departure. Lem, in his excitement, had carried Buddy's rifle away, leaving him weaponless.