“I’ll do it,” replied Myrtle, quietly, “and you may be sure I will not miss. Get ready.”
The men placed themselves back to back.
“March,” she said.
They advanced ten paces each with his revolver ready.
“Ready—turn!”
The pistols exploded at the same moment. Old Pegs staggered a little, but quickly recovered himself and fired again. Rafe Norris spun round upon his heel, uttered a short, quick cry and fell upon his back while the revolver dropped out of his hand. They ran to raise him and he made a feeble effort to lift his weapon but his hand refused its office and dropped heavily to his side.
“I’m done for,” he groaned, “and it served me right for all my villainy. Old Pegs, open my coat and take out the paper you will find there.”
Old Pegs obeyed and found two or three letters and a legal-looking document.
“I told you the truth, Myrtle, when I said I was your cousin. That paper is a copy of our grandfather’s will which you will find in the hands of Justin Lawrence, attorney, at St. Louis. When you read the will you will understand why I wished to make you my wife. Never fear for me; I’ll die as I have lived—game to the last. Here’s luck to the Hudson Bay!”
He shook his hand above his head and with the effort his life went out. The will when read was found to be in favor of the heirs of Edward Forrester, or, failing that, all was left to a benevolent institution at St. Louis. To Edward Forrester, Jr., the only child of his youngest son, the testator left one dollar “on account of his dissolute and unmanly conduct.” The secret of his persistent effort to make Myrtle his wife was explained.