Covering the fellow with his revolver,
Brandt shouted:
"Bute, throw up your hands; surrender, or you are a dead man!"
Instantly the truth flashed through the outlaw's mind. Instead of
complying, he threw himself forward over the pony's neck and urged
the animal forward. Brandt fired, and Bute fell with a splash into
the water. At that moment three miners, returning from the tavern,
came shouting to the opposite side of the stream. The frightened
pony, relieved of its burden, galloped homeward. Brandt also
withdrew rapidly toward the mine for some distance, and then rode
into the woods. Having tied his horse well back from the highway,
he reconnoitred the party that had so inopportunely interfered
with his plans. He discovered that they were carrying Bute, who,
from his groans and oaths, was evidently not dead, though he might
be mortally wounded. His rescuers were breathing out curses and
threats of vengeance against Brandt, now known to be an officer of
the law.
"The job has become a little complicated now," muttered Brandt,
after they had passed; "and I must throw them off the scent.
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