By Right of Purchase

by Harold Bindloss

"I suppose there is a man," gasped Gallwey.

Leland seemed to laugh, though he was running hard. "Well," he said breathlessly, "it's quite a usual thing for one fire to come along in weather like this, but it's rather too much of a coincidence when two of them start in the same place, while, when you see a third one too, it's enough to make one anxious for a good grip of the man who's lighting them."

"I can't see a third."

Leland swung his arm up, and appeared to be pointing in front of him. "You're going to. Go on slow, but be ready to run when you see a twinkle. The one thing to remember is that you have a rifle."

He turned off and vanished, while Gallwey pulled up to a walk. There was a very big fire a league or so away, and two small ones behind him which were extending rapidly, but all the rest of the prairie was wrapped in utter darkness. When he turned, after glancing at the wide blaze of radiance, he could not see a yard in front of him. Where his comrade was he did not know, but he fancied his object was to place the incendiary between the two of them when he betrayed himself by the third blaze. Gallwey was, however, not quite sure there would be a third blaze, while it appeared not improbable that if the man still lingered, he might hear them.

For five minutes he walked straight on, or, at least, he fancied so. It seemed to be getting darker, for the air was thick with drifting smoke, and there was no moon. Then a pale twinkle leapt up in front of him, and that was all he could be certain of, for, since there was no horizon, it might have been, for all that he could tell, either above him or beneath. It was a feeble blink of light that presently went out again. Still, he had his direction now, and his heart beat a good deal faster than usual as he went on at a run, until the pale blaze sprang up a second time. Then he dropped swiftly, and crouched with one foot under him and the rifle in his left hand, watching the radiance increase. He could see the taller tussocks of grass between him and the fire now, and drew in his breath, pitching the rifle forward with his elbow on his knee, when a black figure became faintly visible behind it.

He could not see the sights, but the man who shoots duck on the sloos, handles the rifle in that country much as one uses a double-barrel, and Gallwey felt that the chances were in favour of his driving a forty-four bullet into the black figure by the fire. Still, something in him recoiled from doing so without, at least, a warning, and he raised his voice.

"Stand still!" he said; "I have you covered." It is possible that the man did not believe him, and made a swift calculation of the chances against him. In any case, he vanished incontinently, and it was a moment or two too late when Gallwey's rifle flashed. He felt the jar of the butt on his shoulder, but, as usual, heard no report. He was listening for the whine of the bullet and the thud which would tell him whether it had reached its mark. He did not hear that either, and, slamming down the slide, fired again at a venture. Then he heard a drumming of hoofs, and rose to his feet. It would be Leland's turn now, and he fancied his comrade would, at least, have endeavoured to place the man between himself and the fire. It was certain that there was nothing to be gained by running after a man upon a horse.

While he stood still, he saw a little pale flash, and heard the ringing of a rifle. The flash appeared again, and this time was followed by a cry and a heavy crash. Gallwey ran as fast as he could in the direction whence it seemed to come, and in another few minutes stopped beside a big, shapeless object that was moving convulsively on the grass. He made out his comrade stooping over it.

"Get hold!" said Leland. "The horse is done for, but he has the man pinned down under him."