But, fortunately for both, he did not pull the trigger.
What the reason was, Deadshot said later he could not tell. But his failure so to do spared the life of Ki Yi—for the approaching horseman was none other than the man from the Star and Moon outfit who had made a desperate attempt to catch up with his pal from the Double Cross.
Trembling as he thought how near he can come to shooting down his friend, Deadshot waited to see what Ki Yi would do.
But the cowboy was a scout of no mean ability.
Rising in his stirrups from time to time as he drew nearer and nearer to the edge of the swamp, he soon discovered the trail through the dew-laden grass which his pal had made.
And, as he did so, he, too, threw his rifle to his shoulder. Then, realizing that any one hiding in the underbrush surrounding the bottom lands would be able to see him when he could not detect the person concealed, he suddenly slid from his pony, hobbled it, and, crouching so low that his back was not visible above the waving tops of the grass, resumed his following of the trail.
Arrived at the saplings, however, it did not take him long to discover and recognize Deadshot’s horse. But where the cowboy was, he was unable to make out until a chuckle caused him to look up into the branches directly over his head.
“That’s one on me,” he exclaimed, in a low voice, shaking his fist at his pal.
“No doubt of that. And it’s a mighty good thing it was I in the tree instead of Mr. Cowlifter. I came mighty near putting a bullet into you as it was when I first caught sight of you,” he added, shuddering at the closeness of the call.
“But you ought to have known it was I,” returned Ki Yi.