wish to ask him a question,” said Haines. He turned to Buck: “Do you mean to say that after Barry’s wolf cut up your arm, you’ve been giving Whistling Dan a shelter from the law—and from us?”
“I give him a place to stay because he was damned near death,” said Buck. “An’ there’s one thing you’ll answer for in hell, Haines, an’ that’s ridin’ off an’ leavin’ the man that got you out of Elkhead. He was bleedin’ to death.”
“Shot?” said Haines, changing colour.
Silent broke in: “Buck, go take your place and say your prayers.”
“Stay where you are!” commanded Haines. “And the girl?”
“He was lyin’ sick in bed, ravin’ about ‘Delilah’ an’ ‘Kate.’ So I come an’ got the girl.”
Haines dropped his head.
“An’ when he was lyin’ there,” said Silent fiercely, “you could of made an’ end of him without half liftin’ your hand, an’ you didn’t.”
“Silent,” said Haines, “if you want to talk, speak to me.”
“What in hell do you mean, Lee?”
“You can’t get at Buck except through me.”
“Because that devil Barry got a bullet for your sake are you goin’ to—”
“I’ve lived a rotten life,” said Haines.
“An’ I suppose you think this is a pretty good way of dyin’?” sneered Silent.
“I have more cause to fight for Barry than Buck has,” said Haines.
“Lee, we’ve been pals too long.”
“Silent, I’ve hated you like a snake ever since I met you. But outlaws can’t choose their company.”
His tawny head rose. He stared haughtily around the circle of lowering faces.
“By God,” said Silent, white with passion, “I’m beginnin’ to think you do hate me! Git down there an’ take your place. You’re first an’ Daniels comes next. Kilduff, you c’n count!”
He stalked to the end of the room. Haines lingered one moment.
“Buck,” he said, “there’s one chance in ten thousand that I’ll make this draw the quickest of the two. If I don’t, you may live through it. Tell Kate—”
“Haines, git to your mark, or I’ll start shootin’!”
Haines turned and took his place. The others drew back along the walls of the room. Kilduff took the lamp from the table and held it high above his head. Even then the light was dim and uncertain and the draughts set the flame wavering so that the place was shaken with shadows. The moon sent a feeble shaft of light through the window.
“One!” said Kilduff.
The shoulders of Haines and Silent hunched slightly.
“Two!” said Kilduff.
“God,” whispered someone.
“Three. Fire!”
They whirled, their guns exploding at almost the same instant, and Silent lunged for the floor, firing twice as he fell. Haines’s second shot split the wall behind Silent. If the outlaw chief had remained standing the bullet would have passed through his head. But as Silent fired the third time the revolver dropped clattering from the hand of Haines. Buck caught him as he toppled inertly forward, coughing blood.
Silent was on his feet instantly.
“Stand back!” he roared to his men, who crowded about the fallen long rider. “Stand back in your places. I ain’t finished. I’m jest started. Buck, take your place!”
“Boys!” pleaded Buck, “he’s not dead, but he’ll bleed to death unless—”
“Damn him, let him bleed. Stand up, Buck, or by God I’ll shoot you while you kneel there!”
“Shoot and be damned!”
He tore off his shirt and ripped away a long strip for a bandage.
The revolver poised in Silent’s hand.
“Buck, I’m warnin’ you for the last time!”
“Fellers, it’s murder an’ damnation for all if you let Haines die this way!” cried Buck.
The shining barrel of the revolver dropped to a level.
“I’ve given you a man’s chance,” said Silent, “an’ now you’ll have the chance of—”
The door at the side of the room jerked open and a revolver cracked. The lamp shivered to a thousand pieces in the hands of Bill Kilduff. All the room was reduced to a place of formless shadow, dimly lighted by the shaft of moonlight. The voice of Jim Silent, strangely changed and sharpened from his usual bass roar, shrilled over the sudden tumult: “Each man for himself! It’s Whistling Dan!”
Terry Jordan and Bill Kilduff rushed at the dim figure, crouched to the floor. Their guns spat fire, but they merely lighted the way to their own destruction. Twice Dan’s revolver spoke, and they dropped, yelling. Pandemonium fell on the room.
The long riders raced here and there, the revolvers coughing fire. For an instant Hal Purvis stood framed against the pallid moonshine at the window. He stiffened and pointed an arm toward the door.
“The werewolf,” he screamed.
As if in answer to the call, Black Bart raced across the room. Twice the revolver sounded from the hand of Purvis. Then a shadow leaped from the floor. There was a flash of white teeth, and Purvis lurched to one side and dropped, screaming terribly. The door banged. Suddenly there was silence. The clatter of a galloping horse outside drew swiftly away.
“Dan!”
“Here!”
“Thank God!”
“Buck, one got away! If it was Silent—Here! Bring some matches.”
Someone was dragging himself towards the door in a hopeless effort to escape. Several others groaned.
“You, there!” called Buck. “Stay where you are!”
The man who struggled towards the door flattened himself against the floor, moaning pitifully.
“Quick,” said Dan, “light a match. Morris’s posse is at my heels. No time. If Silent escaped—”
A match flared in the hands of Buck.
“Who’s that? Haines!”
“Let him alone, Dan! I’ll tell you why later. There’s Jordan and Kilduff. That one by the door is Rhinehart.”
They ran from one to the other, greeted by groans and deep curses.
“Who’s that beneath the window?”
“Too small for Silent. It’s Purvis, and he’s dead!”
“Bart got him!”
“No! It was fear that killed him. Look at his face!”
“Bart, go out to Satan!”
The wolf trotted from the room.
“My God, Buck, I’ve done all this for nothin’! It was Silent that got away!”
“What’s that?”
Over the groans of the wounded came the sound of running horses, not one, but many, then a call: “Close in! Close in!”
“The posse!” said Dan.
As he jerked open the door a bullet smashed the wood above his head. Three horsemen were closing around Satan and Black Bart. He leaped back into the room.