It had been singed by a rifle bullet.
His hand caught his revolver, but before it was drawn, another shot came, and the horse staggered.
Nick slipped off quickly.
He ran a few paces and fell.
Then he lay still and watched.
The horse fell in earnest.
He was some two rods from the detective, and, as he did not struggle after he went down, Nick knew that he had been instantly killed.
Not another sound came from the bushes across the road.
“Confound them!” thought Nick, who was not scratched, except for the slight mark on his forehead. “Why don’t they come out to make sure of their business?”
It was clearly a case of murder intended, for, if the unseen villains had been robbers they would have crept forward to go through the supposed dead man.