"Good shot!" Karsten told his companion. "Nice and clean."
Thurman smiled. "Thank you," he said. And then, "Too bad you had to give him up."
Shrugging his shoulders, Karsten said, "Well, that's the way of things. I don't remember him too well, but I think he taught me anthropology. Old Mac something-or-other. I forget his name."
The two men started walking back towards the entrance to the canyon. "I suppose that I could have taken him anyway," Karsten said as they walked. "But I've never considered it good taste to shoot someone whom I've known."
"I know how you feel," Thurman told him.
"It sort of ... well ... ruins the sport, if you know what I mean," Karsten said.
"Sure," replied Thurman.
They went quietly through the narrow little pass, stopping on the other side. Thurman lit a cigarette and leaned back against a rock to rest. Karsten put a star shell into his rifle, pointed it towards the sky, and fired. They both watched as it burst into a gaudy blossom of fire and smoke far above them.
"That ought to bring Emmett on the run," Karsten said. "He can clean things up and leave a marker. The plane will pick up the body later today."