“He’s within range—shoot!” whispered Adrian.
“Only mad him that way. Sh! When he turns—”
“Bang! bang! bang!” in swift succession.
The great horns tossed, the noble head came round again, then bent, wavered, and disappeared. The tragedy was over.
“I got him! I got him that time! Always shoot that way, never—”
Pierre picked up his paddle and sent the canoe forward at a leap. When there came no responding movement from his companion he looked back over his shoulder. Adrian’s face had gone white, and the eagerness of his eyes had given place to unspeakable regret.
“What’s the matter? Sick?”
“Yes. Why, it was murder! Margot was right.”
“Oh, shucks!”
Whereupon Pierre pulled the faster toward the body of his victim.