And the crash of his own gun followed the other so closely that the two seemed almost instantaneous.
Nyland did not conclude his acrobatic performance with the dive.
Landing on the ground he rolled over and over, scrambling toward the wall of the cabin--reaching it on all fours and crouching there, gun in hand--waiting.
He had heard no sound from the man, nor did the latter appear.

The silence within the cabin was as deep as it had been just an instant before the exchange of shots.
There was a window in the rear wall of the cabin--a kitchen window.
There was another on the opposite side--the dining-room.

There was a front door and two windows on the side Nyland was on.
Two courses were open for Nyland.

He could gain entrance to the house through one of the windows or the front door, thereby running the risk of making a target of himself, or he could stay on the outside and wait for the man to come out--which he would have to do some time.
Nyland decided to remain where he was.

For a long time he crouched against the wall and nothing happened.