ditched us. I came down hard and it knocked me for a minute. I saw him coming at me, but I did n't have sense enough to pull my gun—till I saw Fan jump up and run toward him, screaming at him—and he just took and shot her through the head.… I fired low. Broke his ankle.… That was all there was to it."
"You got away?"
"Through the woods. I waited till I was sure she was dead. She never moved. I could have killed him if I 'd wanted to—from behind a tree. I could see him watching for me. He could n't get up."
Colburn stared at him. "Well, good—! What he kicking about?"
Sims was gazing at the blank plush of the car seat opposite him. "I got lung trouble," he said. "He knows I can't go East, And he hunts around till he finds me. That 's all he does. He 's about crazy with hate. When he can't do anything else, he sets a newspaper reporter after me. I don't want to do anything—but keep away from him."
"The dirty barber," Colburn muttered.
"At first he used to swear out a warrant and have me arrested and skip out before the trial, but he couldn't keep that up. Then he used to trail me up and try to scare me with a gun, but he did n't shoot—and I got on to it. Now he generally gets some newspaper reporter after me."
"How the — does he find out where you go?"
"He used to pay detectives, but now he does it him-
