Trigger lunged toward Nick and grabbed him by the arm just as Nick was about to bring the rifle butt down on his head. Jack released Old Pete and ran in to trip Nick up with a side-run, and in a second they were sprawling on the ground. Al, meanwhile, turned to pin Old Pete down again, but just too late. Old Pete shot his gun in the air, with some instinct that a loud noise might bring these damn fools to their senses. No one paid the slightest attention. There was a groan from Jack, kicked in the groin, and a howl from Trigger, bitten in the leg. Nick was taking a beating but wasn’t using any energy crying out. He had learned to fight dirty in the war, and he wasn’t through yet. His gun had long since been dropped in the struggle. Old Pete turned to Al now for help.

“The gun, man. We’d better get it out of the way. Help me.” But before Pete could reach it, he was kicked in the stomach by somebody’s boot and fell back, trying to catch his breath.

It was now nearly dark. For the first time Old Pete was scared. Nick was behaving like a man out of his head, all that gentleness turned into violence. His mouth was bloody. But at the moment he appeared to be on top. The three had become grunting, panting, ferocious animals.

It was Al who heard the footsteps and saw a light flashing among the trees.

“Hey,” he shouted, “someone’s coming!”

“All right, break it up,” said Orin Gregg, the warden. He was followed by Andy, who had evidently been woken up to show the way.

“What’s going on here?” Andy asked. “Are you guys crazy? It’s dark!”

But Nick was beyond hearing or caring, and socked Jack on the chin just as he was getting to his knees. The young man fell over, rolled on his side, shook his head with his eyes closed, tried to get up and fell again. Finally he was helped to his feet by Al. Trigger was sitting on the ground, groaning and retching.

Nick lay back against the dead doe’s belly and wiped the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand. Gregg stood there with the flashlight on the three men. Finally Nick caught his breath.

“These men got this doe after five. Old Pete and I are witnesses.”

“This man’s out of his mind,” Al said quickly. “He ought to be in an institution—shot our deer, tried to get it away from us, lied, and finally, as you can see, nearly murdered my two friends here.”

“Shit,” Old Pete said. “Tell it to the judge.”

“Who … who … told you?” Nick asked. One of his eyes was swelling rapidly, and he could hardly see. Then, “Where’s my gun?”