dangerously upward close to her. Duane watched only that. Then a bellow
made him jerk his head. Colonel Longstreth stood in the doorway in a
magnificent rage. He had no weapon. Strange how he showed no fear! He
bellowed something again.

Duane's shifting glance caught the robber's sudden movement. It was
a kind of start. He seemed stricken. Duane expected him to shoot
Longstreth. Instead the hand that clutched Miss Longstreth's torn waist
loosened its hold. The other hand with its cocked weapon slowly dropped
till it pointed to the floor. That was Duane's chance.

Swift as a flash he drew his gun and fired. Thud! went his bullet, and
he could not tell on the instant whether it hit the robber or went into
the ceiling. Then the robber's gun boomed harmlessly. He fell with blood
spurting over his face. Duane realized he had hit him, but the small
bullet had glanced.

Miss Longstreth reeled and might have fallen had Duane not supported
her. It was only a few steps to a couch, to which he half led, half
carried her. Then he rushed out of the room, across the patio, through
the bar to the yard. Nevertheless, he was cautious. In the gloom stood a
saddled horse, probably the one belonging to the fellow he had shot.
His comrade had escaped. Returning to the sitting-room, Duane found a
condition approaching pandemonium.

The innkeeper rushed in, pitchfork in hands. Evidently he had been out
at the barn. He was now shouting to find out what had happened. Joel,
the stage-driver, was trying to quiet the men who had been robbed. The
woman, wife of one of the men, had come in, and she had hysterics. The
girls were still and white. The robber Bill lay where he had fallen, and
Duane guessed he had made a fair shot, after all. And, lastly, the thing
that struck Duane most of all was Longstreth's rage. He never saw such
passion. Like a caged lion Longstreth stalked and roared. There came a
quieter moment in which the innkeeper shrilly protested:

"Man, what're you ravin' aboot? Nobody's hurt, an' thet's lucky. I swear
to God I hadn't nothin' to do with them fellers!"

"I ought to kill you anyhow!" replied Longstreth. And his voice now
astounded Duane, it was so full of power.

Upon examination Duane found that his bullet had furrowed the robber's
temple, torn a great piece out of his scalp, and, as Duane had guessed,
had glanced. He was not seriously injured, and already showed signs of
returning consciousness.

"Drag him out o