"He fired that bullet," said Silent, "after mine hit him."
Then he leaped back through the door.
"Keep 'em back one minute, Lee, an' then after me!" he said as he ran. Haines stood in the door with folded arms. He knew that no one would dare to move a hand.
Two doors slammed at the same moment—the front door as Silent leaped into the safety of the night, and the rear door as Whistling Dan rushed into the house. He stood at the entrance from the kitchen to the dining-room half crouched, and swaying from the suddenness with which he had checked his run. He saw the sprawled form of Tex Calder on the floor and the erect figure of Lee Haines just opposite him.
"For God's sake!" screamed Gus Morris, "don't shoot, Haines! He's done nothin'. Let him go!"
"My life—or his!" said Haines savagely. "He's not a man—he's a devil!"
Dan was laughing low—a sound like a croon.
"Tex," he said, "I'm goin' to take him alive for you!"
As if in answer the dying man stirred on the floor. Haines went for his gun, a move almost as lightning swift as that of Jim Silent, but now far, far too
