lashing vision of a tall Mexican
creeping toward him, a long, slim knife glittering in his upraised hand.
The fellow was so close that another step would bring him within striking
distance, and without hesitation Buck's finger pressed the trigger.

The hammer fell with an ominous, metallic click. Amazed, Buck hastily
pulled the trigger twice again without results. As he realized that in
some mysterious manner the weapon had been tampered with, his teeth
grated, but with no perceptible pause in the swiftness of his action he
drew back his arm and hurled the pistol straight into the greaser's face.

His aim was deadly. The heavy Colt struck the fellow square on the mouth,
and with a smothered cry he dropped the knife and staggered back, flinging
up both hands to his face. But others leaped forward to take his place, a
dozen knives flashing in as many hands. The ring closed swiftly, and from
behind him Stratton heard Bud cry out with an oath that his gun was
useless.

There was no time for conscious planning. It was instinct alone--that
primitive instinct of every man sore pressed to get his back against
something solid--that made Buck lunge forward suddenly, seize a Mexican
around the waist, and hurl him bodily at one side of the closing circle.

This parted abruptly and two men went sprawling. One of them Buck kicked
out of the way, feeling a savage satisfaction at the impact of his boot
against soft flesh and at the yell of pain that followed. Catching Jessup
by an arm he swept him toward one of the tables, snatched up a chair, and
with his back against the heavy piece of furniture he faced the mob. His
hat was gone, and as he stood there, big body braced, mouth set, and hair
crested above his smoldering eyes, he made a splendid picture of force and
strength which seemed for an instant to awe the Mexicans into inactivity.

But the pause was momentary. Urged on by a voice in the rear, they surged
forward again, two of the foremost hurling their knives with deadly aim.
One Stratton avoided by a swift duck of his head; the other he caught
dexterously on the chair-bottom. Then, over the heads of the crowd,
another chair came hurtling with unexpected force and precision. It struck
Buck's crude weapon squarely, splintering the legs and leaving him only
the back and precariously wobbling seat.

He flung this at one of the advancing men and floored him. But another,
slipping agilely in from the side, rushed at him with upra