marksman, and if Poleon slackened his stroke, or stopped it to
exchange his paddle for a weapon, the current would carry him past;
in addition, he would have to fire from a rocking paper shell
harried by a boiling current, whereas the other man stood flat upon
his feet.

"Keep away or I'll fire!" threatened Runnion again; and she
screamed, "Don't try it, Poleon, he'll kill you!"

At her words Runnion raised his weapon and fired. She heard the
woods behind reverberate with the echoes like a sounding-board, saw
the white spurt of smoke and the skitter of the bullet as it went
wide. It was a long shot, and had been fired as a final warning; but
Doret made no outcry, nor did he cease coming; instead, his paddle
clove the water with the same steady strokes that took every ounce
of effort in his body. Runnion threw open his gun and replaced the
spent shell. On came the careening, crazy craft in a sidewise drift,
and with it the girl saw coming a terrible tragedy. She started to
run down the gravelled ridge behind her enemy, not realizing the
value or moment of her action, nor knowing clearly what she would
do; but as she drew near she saw Runnion raise his gun again, and,
without thought of her own safety, threw herself upon him Again his
shot went wide as he strove to hurl her off, but his former taste of
her strength was nothing to this, now that she fought for Poleon's
life. Runnion snarled angrily and thrust her away, for he had waited
till the canoe was close.

"Let me go, you devil!" he cried, and aimed again; but again she ran
at him. This time, however, she did not pit her strength against
his, but paused, and as he undertook to fire she thrust at his