Keith stood there baffled, staring about into the gloom, the smoking revolver in his hand.

The sound of men's voices behind was all that reached him, and feeling the uselessness of further pursuit, he retraced his way back through the narrow passage.
A group was gathered about the body in the rain, a single lantern glimmering.

Two or three men had started down the passageway, and Keith met them, revolvers drawn and suspicious.
"Who are you ?" snapped one sharply.

"Were you doing all that shooting yonder ?" Keith recognized the voice, thankful that he did so.
"I fired at the fellow, but he got away onto the prairie.

I reckon you couldn't have done any better, Bill." "Jack Keith!" and Hickock's voice had a new tone, his hand dropping on the other's shoulder.