bitter anger leaped into the old man's
eyes.

"Money!" he said. "You think I take money for a dead woman of my blood
and for my shame. Now me kill you all same wolf!"

The rifle rose, steadied, pointed at Blake's heart. The old finger
crooked on the trigger. The hammer fell with a click. For some
reason--worn firing pin, weak spring, or defective cartridge--the weapon
failed to explode.

Paul Sam's hand jerked down with the lever to throw another shell into
place. But Blake in that instant of reprieve took his chance. With a
leap he hurled himself forward and caught the barrel, throwing it aside,
feeling the flame of the explosion heat the metal beneath his fingers.
The report smashed out in the stillness of the valley, racketing and
rolling against the hills.

Blake wrenched the rifle from the old man's hands and threw it far. His
fear was gone, his face contorted with passion. He reached for his
revolver. As he did so Paul Sam drew a nine-inch knife from its beaded
scabbard and struck as a snake strikes.

With a screaming oath Blake shoved the muzzle of the six-shooter against
him and pulled the trigger. The blunt report was muffled by the body.
But again the knife, now red to the hilt, rose and fell, and again the
gun barked like a kenneled dog. And then Blake reeled backward, his eyes
wide, the gun escaping from his hand, and fell on his back horribly
asprawl. With him fell Paul Sam. But the old Indian's fingers were
locked around the haft of the knife, and the haft stood out of Blake's
breast. And so they lay together as the rolling echoes died and the
stillness of the great hills came again.

CHAPTER XLV

THE GREAT SHOW-DOWN

Down the slope from the wind-swept summit into the valley rode the posse
of Jake Bush. Their horses, too, were gaunted with scant feed and hard
work. Like the men who had preceded them these were unkempt, strained of
eye. Rennie rode in the lead, his eyes on the trail. The eyes of the
others prodded and tested the valley into which they were descending.

By various signs they knew they were closing the gap which separated
them from their quarry. When they reached the abandoned camp they
dismounted and Rennie and Bush tested the ashes.

"Warm where they ain't wet," said Bush. "This is the earliest we've ever
struck their camp yet. They made slow time yesterday. Can't be many
hours ahead."

"Looks to me like their horses is playin' out," Rennie agreed. "Well,
let's get g