ntly.

"Not _this_ message."

"Oh," said the other, and then shouted: "McGurk!"

Far away came the rush of hoofs over a hard trail. Only a minute more
and they would be here; only a minute more and the room would be full
of fighting men ready to die with him and for him. Yet Pierre was
glad; glad that he could meet the danger alone; ten minutes from now,
if he lived, he could answer certainly one way or the other the
greatest of all questions: "Am I a man?"

Out of the inner room the pleasant voice which he dreaded answered:
"What's up?"

The barkeeper glanced Pierre le Rouge over again and then answered: "A
friend with a message."

The door opened and framed McGurk. He did not start, seeing Pierre.

He said: "None of the rest of them had the guts even to bring me the
message, eh?"

Pierre shrugged his shoulders. It was a mighty effort, but he was able
to look his man fairly in the eyes.

"All right, lad. How long is it going to take you to clear out of the
country?"

"That's not the message," answered a voice which Pierre did not
recognize as his own.

"Out with it, then."

"It's in the leather on my hip."

And he went for his gun. Even as he started his hand he knew that he
was too slow for McGurk, yet the finest split-second watch in the world
could not have caught the differing time they needed to get their guns
out of the holsters.

Just a breath before Pierre fired there was a stunning blow on his
right shoulder and another on his hip. He lurched to the floor, his
revolver clattering against the wood as he fell, but falling, he
scooped up the gun with his left and twisted.

That movement made the third shot of McGurk fly wide and Pierre fired
from the floor and saw a spasm of pain contract the face of the outlaw.

Instantly the door behind him flew open and Boone's men stormed into
the room. Once more McGurk fired, but his wound made his aim wide and
the bullet merely tore up a splinter beside Pierre's head. A fusillade
from Boone and his men answered, but the outlaw had leaped back through
the door.

"He's hurt," thundered Boone. "By God, the charm of McGurk is broken.
Dick, Bud, Gandil, take the outside of the place. I'll force the door."

Wilbur and the other two raced through the door and raised a shout at
once, and then there was a rattle of shots. Big Patterson leaned over
Pierre.

He said in an awe-stricken voice: "Lad, it's a great work that you've
done for all of us,