than the
gloom above it. Through this gloom of night, which looked thick like a
cloud, but was really clear, shone the thin, bright point of light,
accentuating the black square that was Greaves's store. Above this
stood a gray line of tree foliage, and then the intensely dark-blue sky
studded with white, cold stars.

A hound bayed lonesomely somewhere in the distance. Voices of men
sounded more distinctly, some deep and low, others loud, unguarded,
with the vacant note of thoughtlessness.

Jean gathered all his forces, until sense of sight and hearing were in
exquisite accord with the suppleness and lightness of his movements. He
glided on about ten short, swift steps before he halted. That was as
far as his piercing eyes could penetrate. If there had been a guard
stationed outside the store Jean would have seen him before being seen.
He saw the fence, reached it, entered the yard, glided in the dense
shadow of the barn until the black square began to loom gray--the color
of stone at night. Jean peered through the obscurity. No dark figure
of a man showed against that gray wall--only a black patch, which must
be the hole in the foundation mentioned. A ray of light now streaked
out from the little black window. To the right showed the wide, black
door.

Farther on Jean glided silently. Then he halted. There was no guard
outside. Jean heard the clink of a cap, the lazy drawl of a Texan, and
then a strong, harsh voice--Jorth's. It strung Jean's whole being
tight and vibrating. Inside he was on fire while cold thrills rippled
over his skin. It took tremendous effort of will to hold himself back
another instant to listen, to look, to feel, to make sure. And that
instant charged him with a mighty current of hot blood, straining,
throbbing, damming.

When Jean leaped this current burst. In a few swift bounds he gained
his point halfway between door and window. He leaned his rifle against
the stone wall. Then he swung the ax. Crash! The window shutter
split and rattled to the floor inside. The silence then broke with a
hoarse, "What's thet?"

With all his might Jean swung the heavy ax on the door. Smash! The
lower half caved in and banged to the floor. Bright light flared out
the hole.

"Look out!" yelled a man, in loud alarm. "They're batterin' the back
door!"

Jean swung again, high on the splintered door. Crash! Pieces flew
inside.

"They've got axes," hoarsely shouted another voice.