illed the cup that was handed him and set the coffee
pot back on fire. As he handed the tin cup with the coffee to the outlaw
the lad's foot slipped on a piece wet wood, and the hot liquid splashed
over his chief's leg. The man jumped to his feet in a rage and struck
the boy across the face with his whip once, and then again.

"By God, that'll do for you!" cried Chalkeye from the other side of the
fire, springing revolver in hand. "Draw, you coyote! I come a-shooting."

The "King" wheeled, finding his weapon he turned. Two shots rang out
almost simultaneously, and Chalkeye pitched forward. The outlaw chief
sank to his knees, and, with one hand resting on the ground to steady
himself fired two more shots into the twitching body on the other side
of the fire. Then he, too, lurched forward and rolled over.

It had come to climax so swiftly that not one of them had moved except
the combatants. Bannister rose and walked over to the place where the
body of his cousin lay. He knelt down and examined him. When he rose it
was with a very grave face.

"He is dead," he said quietly.

McWilliams, who had been bending over Chalkeye, looked up. "Here, too.
Any one of the shots would have finished him."

Bannister nodded. "Yes. That first exchange killed them both." He looked
down at the limp body of his cousin, but a minute before so full of
supple, virile life. "But his hate had to reach out and make sure, even
though he was as good as dead himself. He was game." Then sharply to the
young braggart, who had risen and was edging away with a face of
chalk: "Sit down, y'u! What do y'u take us for? Think this is to be a
massacre?"

The man came back with palpable hesitancy. "I was aiming to go and get
the boys to bury them. My God, did you ever see anything so quick? They
drilled through each other like lightning."

Mac looked him over with dry contempt. "My friend, y'u're too tender for
a genuwine A1 bad man. If I was handing y'u a bunch of advice it would
be to get back to the prosaic paths of peace right prompt. And while
we're on the subject I'll borrow your guns. Y'u're scared stiff and it
might get into your fool coconut to plug one of us and light out. I'd
hate to see y'u commit suicide right before us, so I'll just natcherally
unload y'u."

He was talking to lift the strain, and it was for the same purpose that
Bannister moved over to Hughie, who sat with his face in his hands,
trying to shut out the horror of what he h