The mountaineer delivered himself of a volley of oaths, while Whitley stood quietly looking at him, his mind filled with strange thoughts. The man who could deliberately fire from ambush with intent to kill was the man for his purpose.
"Who is he?" Jim asked at last, when the other stopped swearing long enough to fill his mouth with fresh tobacco.
"A revenoo, an' I done missed him clean." He began to curse again.
"He came near getting you though," said the other, pointing to the mark of the horseman's bullet.
"Yas, hit war' Bill Davis. Aint nary other man in the hull dad burned outfit could er done hit." He looked with admiration at the fresh scar on the tree.
"But what is he doing?" asked Whitley.
Jake looked at him with that ugly, mirthless grin. "Mebbe he's huntin' turkey too."
Whitley laughed, "I guess he was goin' too fast for that," he said; but his companion's reply changed his laughter to fear.
"Thar's them that better be a follerin' of him mighty sudden."
"What do you mean?"