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368 of the opposite bluff from time to time, had failed to notice him.

Reaching the narrowed end of the ledge, where another foot's advance would have plunged him over the edge, to go hurtling down two hundred feet to the rocks below, he carefully thrust forward his rifle, moving with infinite slowness and patience. He knew the range; and carefully adjusted the telescope sight, which he extracted from the padded case strapped to his side under his armpit. Resting the muzzle on the edge, he took aim. Holding his lungs half full, his sinewy forefinger curling about the trigger with a steady pressure instead of a pull, he fired.

As the echoes reverberated in avalanches of sound, flying back and forth from wall to wall, filling the gorge with thunderous roars, the seated figure sprang to his feet, threw his arms aloft with the jerky motion of a marionette, and half spun about on his toes. Then he plunged, face downward on the scorching surface of the rock, his head striking with the sickening crunch of bone. His splaying fingers clawed the rock, his body gave a convulsive twitch, and then lay still in the garish sunlight.

Instinctively the two remaining men threw themselves flat beside the gun.

"From across the valley," whispered the man who had been looking through the telescope.