Then Venters, aiming high and waiting for the pause between Wrangle's great strides, began to take snap shots at the rustler.

The fleeing rider presented a broad target for a rifle, but he was moving swiftly forward and bobbing up and down.
Moreover, shooting from Wrangle's back was shooting from a thunderbolt.
And added to that was the danger of a low-placed bullet taking effect on Bells.

Yet, despite these considerations, making the shot exceedingly difficult, Venters's confidence, like his implacability, saw a speedy and fatal termination of that rustler's race.

On the sixth shot the rustler threw up his arms and took a flying tumble off his horse.

He rolled over and over, hunched himself to a half-erect position, fell, and then dragged himself into the sage.