'Where did Herring get this brute?' he asked. 'He'll do for me, if he has not hurt himself. Come up, old fellow, don't lie and go to sleep there.'
He took the reins, and brought the horse up on his haunches, but the poor animal was unable to stand. He had broken or severely injured one foot.
'No good to me,' said Sampson; 'lie as you are. I must force my bay to go on.'
He went back to Herring, and stood over him, a foot on each side. Then he drew the pistol out of his pocket.
'This time you shall not escape me,' he said with an oath; 'I'll take precious good care of that.' And he put the muzzle of his weapon to the ear of the unconscious man. 'Ah! you're deaf enough now, but I'll bark into your ear such a bark as will make you jump into eternity. I reckon I have done for one man to-day, and if I have to run at all, I may as well run for two as for one.'
He drew the trigger, but no report followed.
'Curse it!' he said, and flung the weapon on the road; 'I forgot I had already fired it off, and haven't had time to load again.' He paused, still astride over Herring. 'It is just as well,' he said; 'I can beat your brains out as well as blow them out, and then no one will know but what you smashed your skull in your fall. Where's that pistol?'
He turned to look for it where he had thrown it. It was too dark for him to see, so he groped in the road till he found it.
Then he came back to Herring, lying unconscious and without motion.
'I wonder is he dead already?' he said, and felt him, and put his hand to his heart.