growth of ginger-colored beard. The eyes were blue andwide apart， with laughter-wrinkles in the comers thatshowed despite the tired and anxious expression of thewhole face.
All this he could see with microscopic clearness， for thedistance was no more than twenty feet. And all this he sawin such brief time， that he saw it as he lifted his carbine tohis shoulder. He glanced along the sights， and knew thathe was gazing upon a man who was as good as dead. It wasimpossible to miss at such point blank range.
But he did not shoot. Slowly he lowered the carbine andwatched. A hand， clutching a water-bottle， became visibleand the ginger beard bent downward to fill the bottle. Hecould hear the gurgle of the water. Then arm and bottleand ginger beard disappeared behind the closing bushes.
A long time he waited， when， with thirst unslaked， hecrept back to his horse， rode slowly across the sun-washedclearing， and passed into the shelter of the woods beyond.
II
Another day， hot and breathless. A deserted farmhouse，large， with many outbuildings and an orchard， standingin a clearing. From the Woods， on a roan horse， carbineacross pommel， rode the young man with the quick blackeyes. He breathed with relief as he gained the house.
That a fight had taken place here earlier in the seasonwas evident. Clips and empty cartridges， tarnished withverdigris， lay on the ground， which， while wet， had beentorn up by the hoofs of horses. Hard by the kitchen gardenwere graves， tagged and numbered. From the oak tree bythe kitchen door， in tattered， weatherbeaten garments，hung the bodies of two men. The faces， shriveled anddefaced， bore no likeness to the faces of men. The roanhorse snorted beneath them， and the rider caressed andsoothed it and tied it farther away.
Entering the house， he found the interior a wreck. Hetrod on empty cartridges as he walked from room to roomto reconnoiter from the windows. Men had camped andslept everywhere， and on the floor of one room he cameupon stains unmistakable where the wounded had beenlaid down.
Again outside， he led the horse around behind the barnand invaded the orchard. A dozen trees were burdenedwith ripe apples. He filled his pockets， eating while hepicked. Then a thought came to him， and he glanced atthe sun， calculating the time of his return to camp. Hepulled off his shirt， tying the sleeves and making a bag.
This he proceeded to fill with apples.
As he was about to mount his horse， the animalsuddenly pricked up its ears. The man， too， listened， andheard， faintly， the thud of hoofs on soft earth. He crept tothe corner of the barn and peered out. A dozen mountedmen， strung out loosely， approaching from the oppositeside of the clearing， were only a matter of a hundred yardsor so away. They rode on to the house. Some dismounted，while others remained in the saddle as an earnest thattheir stay would be short. They seemed to be holding acouncil， for he could hear them talking excitedly in thedetested tongue of the alien invader. The time passed，but they seemed unable to reach a decision. He put thecarbine away in its boot， mounted， and waited impatiently，balancing the shirt of apples on the pommel.
He heard footsteps approaching， and drove his spurs sofiercely into the roan as to force a surprised groan fromthe animal as it leaped forward. At the comer of the barnhe saw the intruder， a mere boy of nineteen or twenty forall of his uniform jump back to escape being run down. Atthe same moment the roan swerved and its rider caughta glimpse of the aroused men by the house. Some werespringing from their horses， and he could see the riflesgoing to their shoulders. He passed the kitchen door andthe dried corpses swinging in the shade， compelling hisfoes to run around the front of the house. A rifle cracked，and a second， but he was going fast， leaning forward， lowin the saddle， one hand clutching the shirt of apples， theother guiding the horse.
The top bar of the fence was four feet high， but he knewhis roan and leaped it at full career to the accompanimentof several scattered shots. Eight hundred yards straightaway were the woods， and the roan was covering thedistance with mighty strides. Every man was now firing.
pumping their guns so rapidly that he no longer heardindividual shots. A bullet went through his hat， but he wasunaware， though he did know when another tore throughthe apples on the pommel. And he winced and duckedeven lower when a third bullet， fired low， struck a stonebetween his horse’s legs and ricochetted off through theair， buzzing and humming like some incredible insect.
The shots died down as the magazines were emptied，until， quickly， there was no more shooting. The youngman was elated. Through that astonishing fusillade he hadcome unscathed. He glanced back. Yes， they had emptiedtheir magazines. He could see several reloading. Otherswere running back behind the house for their horses. Ashe looked， two already mounted， came back into viewaround the comer， riding hard. And at the same moment，he saw the man with the unmistakable ginger beard kneeldown on the ground， level his gun， and coolly take his timefor the long shot.
The young man threw his spurs into the horse， crouchedvery low， and swerved in his flight in order to distractthe other’s aim. And still the shot did not come. Witheach jump of the horse， the woods sprang nearer. Theywere only two hundred yards away and still the shot wasdelayed.
And then he heard it， the last thing he was to hear， forhe was dead ere he hit the ground in the long crashing fallfrom the saddle. And they， watching at the house， saw himfall， saw his body bounce when it struck the earth， andsaw the burst of red-cheeked apples that rolled about him.
They laughed at the unexpected eruption of apples， andclapped their hands in applause of the long shot by theman with the ginger beard.
