Bart lowered his gun. Once more the mist seemed to come before his eyes, but it did not matter now, for he had saved the man. Yet no one ever knew how narrow was the margin, for, as Bart was pulling the trigger, the wire was once more swayed by the wind, and the bullet from the rifle had sped past the man's head less than two inches away. So close had he been to death! But Bart had shot true, and, ever, in after years, he called that his best shot.