what had happened, and also what
to expect if he lost out now. The curiously shaped iron lamp had concealed
an electric bulb, and Rann had turned off the switch-key under the table.
He had no further time to think. An object came hurtling through the thick
gloom and fell with terrific force on his outstretched pistol arm. His
automatic flew from his hand and struck against the wall. Unarmed, he
sprang back toward the open door--full into the arms of Quade!

Aldous knew that it was Quade and not Culver Rann, and he struck out with
all the force he could gather in a short-arm blow. His fist landed against
Quade's thick neck. Again and again he struck, and Quade's grip loosened.
In another moment he would have reached the door if Rann had not caught him
from behind. Never had Aldous felt the clutch of hands like those of the
womanish hands of Culver Rann. It was as if sinuous fingers of steel were
burying themselves in his flesh. Before they found his throat he flung
himself backward with all his weight, and with a tremendous effort freed
himself.

Both Quade and Culver Rann now stood between him and the door. He could
hear Quade's deep, panting breath. Rann, as before, was silent as death.
Then he heard the door close. A key clicked in the lock. He was trapped.

"Turn on the light, Billy," he heard Rann say in a quiet, unexcited voice.
"We've got this house-breaker cornered, and he's lost his gun. Turn on the
light--and I'll make one shot do the business!"

Aldous heard Quade moving, but he was not coming toward the table.
Somewhere in the room was another switch connected with the iron lamp, and
Aldous felt a curious chill shoot up his spine. Without seeing through that
pitch darkness of the room he sensed the fact that Culver Rann was standing
with his back against the locked door, a revolver in his hand. And he knew
that Quade, feeling his way along the wall, held a revolver in his hand.
Men like these two did not go unarmed. The instant the light was turned on
they would do their work. As he stood, silent as Culver Rann, he realized
the tables were turned. In that moment's madness roused by Quade's gloating
assurance of possessing Joanne he had revealed himself like a fool, and now
he was about to reap the whirlwind of his folly. Deliberately he had given
himself up to his enemies. They, too, would be fools if they allowed him to
escape alive.

He heard Quade stop. His thick hand was fumbling along the wall. Aldou