Dismounting and drawing his pistol, Sanderson went forward.

Dale did not move, and when at last Sanderson stood over the fallen man he saw that his eyes were closed and that a great gash had been cut in his forehead near the right temple.
Sanderson saw that the man was badly hurt, but to make sure of him he drew Dale's pistol from its sheath and searched his clothing for other weapons--finding another pistol in a pocket, and a knife in a belt.
These he threw into some brush near by, and then he bent over the man.
Dale was unconscious, and despite all Sanderson could do, he remained so.
Sanderson examined the wound in his temple, and discovered that it was deep and ragged--such a wound as a jagged stone might make.
It was midnight when Sanderson ceased his efforts and decided that Dale would die.

He pitied the man, but he felt no pang of regret, for Dale had brought his death upon himself.

Sanderson wondered, standing there, looking down at Dale, whether he would have killed the man.

He decided that he would have killed him.
"But that ain't no reason why I should let him die after he's had an accident," he told himself.