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Howard let him in. He had a revolver in his hand, the first

weapon he could snatch up.

"You durned old idiot! It's a wonder you ain't dead three ways

for Sunday," he shouted joyfully at sight of him. "Ain't I told

you 'steen times to do what bathin' you got to do, right here in

the shack?"

The Texan laughed again. Naked as that of Father Adam, his

splendid body was glowing with the bath and the exercise.

"He's ce'tainly the worst chump ever, Alec. Had me in sight all

the way down to the creek, but waited till I wasn't moving.

Reckon he was nervous. Anyhow, he waited just one-tenth of a

second too late. Shot just as I leaned forward for my dive. He

gave me a free hair-cut though."

A swath showed where the bullet had mowed a furrow of hair so

close that in one place it had slightly torn the scalp.

"He shot again, didn't he?"