392
The Red Mist
I tossed the discarded revolver into the bushes, and struggled with the limp body until I was able to rise to my feet with the unconscious man dangling across my shoulder. He was of good girth and weight, but I succeeded in staggering the few yards necessary with the burden, and then hoisted him across the saddle, head and heels dangling. The horse snorted and circled to get away, frightened at his unusual burden, but I soothed the animal, and finally he sniffed at the man's legs, and stood still.
