he street. How small it was, and how
sinister! It consisted of exclamations begun, and then broken sharply
off. A swirl of people divided as a cloud of dust divides before a blast
of wind, and through them came the gigantic figure of Lord Nick!

On he came, a gorgeous figure, a veritable king of men. He carried his
hat in his hand and his red hair flamed, and he walked with great
strides. Donnegan glanced behind him. The way was clear. If he turned,
Lord Nick would not pursue him, he knew.

But to flee even from his brother was more than he could do; for the
woman he loved would know of it and could never understand.

He touched the holster that held his empty gun--and waited!

An eternity between every step of Lord Nick. Others seemed to have
sensed the meaning of this silent scene. People seemed to stand frozen
in the midst of gestures. Or was that because Donnegan's own thoughts
were traveling at such lightning speed that the rest of the world seemed
standing still? What kept Lou Macon? If she were with him, not even Lord
Nick in his madness would force on a gunplay in the presence of a woman,
no doubt.

Lord Nick was suddenly close; he had paused; his voice rang over the
street and struck upon Donnegan's ear as sounds come under water.

"Donnegan!"

"Aye!" called Donnegan softly.

"It's the time!"

"Aye," said Donnegan.

Then a huge body leaped before him; it was big George. And as he sprang
his gun went up with his hand in a line of light. The two reports came
close together as finger taps on a table, and big George, completing his
spring, lurched face downward into the sand.

Dead? Not yet. All his faith and selflessness were nerving the big man.
And Donnegan stood behind him, unarmed!

He reared himself upon his knees--an imposing bulk, even then, and fired
again. But his hand was trembling, and the bullet shattered a sign above
the head of Lord Nick. He, in his turn, it seemed to Donnegan that the
motion was slow, twitched up the muzzle of his weapon and fired once
more from his hip. And big George lurched back on the sand, with his
face upturned to Donnegan. He would have spoken, but a burst of blood
choked him; yet his eyes fixed and glazed, he mustered his last
strength and offered his revolver to Donnegan.

But Donnegan let the hand fall limp to the ground. There were voices
about him; steps running; but all that he clearly saw was Lord Nick with
his feet braced, and his head high.

"Donneg