His Other Wife: A Novel — page 143: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE PLOTTERS. 135 Calculating probabilities by ordinary rules, there were fearful odds against the calm, towering form of the young lawyer, who was utterly unskilled in the use of weapons, while he was perfectly aware that the man before him bore an established reputation as a ‘‘dead shot,” who had left more than one dwe/lo with blood-stains upon his conscience. It was Gordon Warren’s clear, incisive tone that clave the cold, crisp air with the one word: Fire!” CHAPTER XIII. THE PLOTTERS. Two pistol-shots rang simultaneously out through the still solitude, and a moment after Gordon Warren sank down upon the turf, a crimson stream oozing from his breast through the immaculate linen bosom of his shirt. ‘‘Tead, by Jove!” exclaimed Vernois, in a low, horror- struck tone, as he strode to where his opponent lay, pallid and breathless, with his corpse-like face upturned to the white dawn sky. With trembling hand, he opened the garments that covered the wound he had made, and then turned away, shuddering, and as pale as the senseless man by whom he knelt. Comichoo Ss. (eo)