It is the habit of the killer to look for easy game. Out of the corner of
his eye the man who had betrayed 'Lindy Clanton saw that Hugh was edging
back of the bar and dragging out his gun. This boy could be killed safely
now, since they were two to one, both of them experts with the revolver.
To let him escape would be to live in constant danger for the future.

"He's askin' for it, Reb. He's goin' to get it."

Dave Roush pulled his gun, but before he could use it two shots rang out
almost simultaneously. The man at the corner of the bar had the
advantage. His revolver was in the clear before that of Clanton, but Jim
fired from the hip without apparent aim. The bullet was flung from the
barrel an imperceptible second before that of Roush. The gunman, hit in
the wrist of the right hand, gave a grunt and took shelter back of the
bar.

The bystanders scurried for safety while explosion followed explosion.
Young Clanton, light-footed as a cat, side-stepped and danced about as
he fired. The first shot of the red-headed man had hit him and the shock
of it interfered with his accuracy. Hugh had disappeared, but above the
smoke the youngster still saw the cruel face of Devil Dave leering
triumphantly at him behind the pumping gun.

The boy kept moving, so that his body did not offer a static target. He
concentrated his attention on Dave, throwing shot after shot at him. That
he would kill his enemy Clanton never had a doubt. It was firmly fixed in
his mind that he had been sent as the appointed executioner of the man.

It was no surprise to Jim when the face of his sister's betrayer lurched
forward into the smoke. He heard Roush fall heavily to the floor and saw
the weapon hurled out of reach. The fellow lay limp and still.

Clanton did not waste a second look at the fallen man. He knew that the
other Roush, crouched behind the bar, had been firing at him through the
woodwork. Now a bullet struck the wall back of his head. The red-headed
man had fired looking through a knot-hole.

The boy's weapon covered a spot three inches above this. He fired
instantly. A splinter flew from a second hole just above the first.
Three long, noiseless strides brought Clanton to the end of the bar. The
red-headed man lay dead on the floor. The bullet had struck him just
above and between the eyes.

"I reckon that ends the job."

It was Jim's voice that said the words, though he hardly recognized it.
Overcome by a sudden nausea, he lea