from gray to ashen.

"What d'ye mean?" yelled Lawson, fiercely, shrilly. It was not in him to
obey a command, to see impending death.

All quivering and strung, yet with perfect control, Duane raised his
left hand to turn back a lapel of his open vest. The silver star flashed
brightly.

Lawson howled like a dog. With barbarous and insane fury, with sheer
impotent folly, he swept a clawing hand for his gun. Duane's shot broke
his action.

Before Lawson ever tottered, before he loosed the gun, Longstreth leaped
behind him, clasped him with left arm, quick as lightning jerked the
gun from both clutching fingers and sheath. Longstreth protected himself
with the body of the dead man. Duane saw red flashes, puffs of smoke;
he heard quick reports. Something stung his left arm. Then a blow like
wind, light of sound yet shocking in impact, struck him, staggered him.
The hot rend of lead followed the blow. Duane's heart seemed to explode,
yet his mind kept extraordinarily clear and rapid.

Duane heard Longstreth work the action of Lawson's gun. He heard the
hammer click, fall upon empty shells. Longstreth had used up all the
loads in Lawson's gun. He cursed as a man cursed at defeat. Duane
waited, cool and sure now. Longstreth tried to lift the dead man, to
edge him closer toward the table where his own gun lay. But, considering
the peril of exposing himself, he found the task beyond him. He bent
peering at Duane under Lawson's arm, which flopped out from his side.
Longstreth's eyes were the eyes of a man who meant to kill. There was
never any mistaking the strange and terrible light of eyes like
those. More than once Duane had a chance to aim at them, at the top of
Longstreth's head, at a strip of his side.

Longstreth flung Lawson's body off. But even as it dropped, before
Longstreth could leap, as he surely intended, for the gun, Duane covered
him, called piercingly to him:

"Don't jump for the gun! Don't! I'll kill you! Sure as God I'll kill
you!"

Longstreth stood perhaps ten feet from the table where his gun lay Duane
saw him calculating chances. He was game. He had the courage that forced
Duane to respect him. Duane just saw him measure the distance to that
gun. He was magnificent. He meant to do it. Duane would have to kill
him.

"Longstreth, listen," cried Duane, swiftly. "The game's up. You're done.
But think of your daughter! I'll spare your life--I'll try to get you
freedom on one condition. For her sake!