"He dare not turn towards us.

He cannot show his face! If he did, we might recognise him!" On we rode, still gaining.

"Now, now," I cried, "we shall catch him!" Even as I leaned forward to seize his rein, the fugitive, without checking his horse, without turning his head, drew his revolver from his belt, and, raising his hand, fired behind him at random.

He fired towards us, on the chance.

The bullet whizzed past my ear, not hitting anyone.