, and they saw
the pale outline which the fingers of Daniels had left on the cheek of
the other. But if horror was the first thing they felt, amazement was
the next. For Dan Barry sat bolt erect in his chair, staring in an
astonishment too great for words. His right hand hung poised and
moveless just above the butt of his gun; his whole posture was that of
one in the midst of an action, suspended there, frozen to stone. They
waited for that poised hand to drop, for the slender fingers to clutch
the butt of the gun, for the convulsive jerk that would bring out the
gleaming barrel, the explosion, the spurt of smoke, and Buck Daniels
lurching forward to his face on the floor.

But that hand did not move; and Buck Daniels? Standing there with his
back to the suspended death behind him, he drew out Durham and brown
papers, without haste, rolled a cigarette, and reached to a hip pocket.

At that move Dan Barry started. His hand darted down and fastened on his
gun, and he leaned forward in his chair with the yellow glimmering light
flaring up in his eyes. But the hand of Buck Daniels came out from his
hip bearing a match. He raised his leg, scratched the match, there was a
blue spurt of flame, and Buck calmly lighted his cigarette and started
towards the door, sauntering.

The instant the swinging doors closed Barry started from his chair with
a strange cry--none of them had ever heard the like from human lips--for
there was grief in it, and above all there was a deadly eagerness. So a
hungry man might cry out at the sight of food. Down the length of the
barroom he darted and was drawing his gun as he whipped through the
doors. A common rush followed him, and those who reached the open first
saw Buck Daniels leaning far forward in his saddle and spurring
desperately into the gloom of the night. Instantly he was only a
twinkling figure in the shadows, and the beat of the hoofs rattled back
at them. Dan Barry stood with his gun poised high for a second or more.
Then he turned, dropped the gun into the holster, and with the same
strange, unearthly cry of eagerness, he raced off in the direction of
the barns.

There were some who followed him even then, and this is what they
reported to incredulous ears when they returned. Barry ran straight for
the left hand corral and wrenched at the gate, which appeared to be
secured by a lock and chain. Seeing that it would not give way he ran
around to the barn, and came out again carryin