? ? ? ? All this I saw, and, my brain now working rapidly, I thought a thousand thoughts; and yet I could not pull the triggers. I lowered the gun and stepped to the corner of the cabin, primarily to relieve the tension on my nerves and to make a new start, and incidentally to be closer. Again I raised the gun. He was almost at arm's length. There was no hope for him. I was resolved. There was no possible chance of missing him, no matter how poor my marksmanship. And yet I wrestled with myself and could not pull the triggers.
? ? ? ? 'Well?' he demanded impatiently.
? ? ? ? I strove vainly to force my fingers down on the triggers, and vainly I strove to say something.
? ? ? ? 'Why don't you shoot?' he asked.
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