ed on Bard.

"You've got me Drew," he called, "but I've got you, and your
hirelings--all of you, and I'm going to take you to hell with me--to
hell!"

He jerked his gun up and fired, not at a man, for the bullet struck the
thin chain which held the gasoline lamp suspended, struck it with a
clang, and it rushed down to the table. It struck, but not with the loud
explosion which Bard had expected. There was a dull report, as of a shot
fired at a great distance, the scream of Sally from the door, and then
liquid fire spurted from the lamp across the table, whipped in a flare
to the ceiling, and licked against the walls. It shot to all sides but
it shot high, and every man was down on his face.

Anthony, scarcely believing that he was still alive, rushed for the
door, with a cry of agony ringing in his ears from the voice beyond the
room. One man in all that crowd was near enough or had the courage to
obey the master even to the uttermost. The gaunt form of Calamity Ben
blocked the doorway in front of Bard, blocked it with poised revolver.

"Halt!" he yelled.

But the other rushed on. Calamity whipped down the gun and fired, but
even before the trigger was pulled he was sagging toward the floor, for
Bard had shot to kill. Over the prostrate form of the cowpuncher he
leaped, and into the night, where the white face of Sally greeted him.

Outside the red inferno of that room, as if the taste of blood had
maddened him, he raised his arms and shouted, like one crying a wild
prayer: "William Drew! William Drew! Come out to me!"

Small, strong hands gripped his wrists and turned him away from the
house.

"You fool!" cried Sally. "Ride for it! You've raised your hell at
last--I knew you would!"

Red light flared in all the windows of the dining-room; shouts and
groans and cursing poured out of them. Bard turned and followed her out
toward the stable on the run, and he heard her moaning as she ran: "I
knew! I knew!"

She mounted her horse, which was tethered near the barn. He chose at
random the first horse he reached, a grey, threw on his back the saddle
which hung from the peg behind, mounted, and they were off through the
night. No thought, no direction; but only in blind speed there seemed to
be the hope of a salvation.

A mile, two miles dropped behind them, and then in an open stretch, for
he had outridden her somewhat, Anthony reined back, caught the bridle of
her horse, and pulled it down to a sharp trot.

"