Ravenslee turned to Spike.
"How are you now, old fellow?"
"Only a bit sick, like. But say, Geoff—I know I played it low down on you, but—will you—shake an' try t' forget?"
Ravenslee took and held the boy's outstretched hand.
"I think we're going to be better friends than ever, Spike!"
"Good!" said Spike, smiling wearily, "but say, Geoff—dear old Geoff—if I got t' die I don't mind—because I guess this makes us quits at last—don't it, Geoff?"
CHAPTER XLIV
RETRIBUTION
Half-stunned by a blow from Joe's mighty fist, M'Ginnis saw Heine felled by Spider, who, having promptly and scientifically kicked him unconscious, snatched the revolver from his lax fingers and turned to pursue. As he came M'Ginnis fired rapidly but, dazed by the blow, his aim was wild, so he turned and ran, with the Spider in hot pursuit. The moon was down, and it was very dark, and soon M'Ginnis found himself in the denser gloom of trees. On he ran, twisting and doubling, on and on, until spent and breathless, he paused to hearken. Far away, voices shouted to each other, voices that gradually grew more distant; so, finally having caught his breath, M'Ginnis went on again. But the wood was full of noises—strange rustling and sudden, soft night sounds—and at every sound the fugitive paused to listen, finger on trigger. And ever as he went the wild blood throbbed and pulsed within his brain, sounding now like the pad-pad of pursuing feet that would not be shaken off, and again like a voice that mumbled and muttered querulous words in the air about him, and at such times he glanced around upon the dark, but the words would not be stilled: