"Damn him, let him bleed. Stand up, Buck, or by God I'll shoot you while you kneel there!"
"Shoot and be damned!"
He tore off his shirt and ripped away a long strip for a bandage.
The revolver poised in Silent's hand.
"Buck, I'm warnin' you for the last time!"
"Fellers, it's murder an' damnation for all if you let Haines die this way!" cried Buck.
The shining barrel of the revolver dropped to a level.
"I've given you a man's chance," said Silent, "an' now you'll have the chance of—"
The door at the side of the room jerked open and a revolver cracked. The lamp shivered to a thousand pieces in the hands of Bill Kilduff. All the room was reduced to a place of formless shadow, dimly lighted by the shaft of moonlight. The voice of Jim Silent, strangely changed and sharpened from his usual bass roar, shrilled over the sudden tumult: "Each man for himself! It's Whistling Dan!"
Terry Jordan and Bill Kilduff rushed at the dim figure, crouched to the floor. Their guns spat fire, but they merely lighted the way to their own destruction. Twice Dan's revolver spoke, and they dropped, yelling. Pandemonium fell on the room.
The long riders raced here and there, the revolvers coughing fire. For an instant Hal Purvis stood framed against the pallid moonshine at the window. He stiffened and pointed an arm toward the door.
"The werewolf," he screamed.
As if in answer to the call, Black Bart raced across the room. Twice the revolver sounded from the hand of Purvis. Then a shadow leaped from the floor. There was a flash of white teeth, and Purvis lurched to one side and dropped, screaming terribly. The door banged. Suddenly there was silence. The clatter of a galloping horse outside drew swiftly away.
"Dan!"
"Here!"
"Thank God!"
"Buck, one got away! If it was Silent—Here! Bring some matches."
Someone was dragging himself towards the door in a hopeless effort to escape. Several others groaned.
"You, there!" called Buck. "Stay where you are!"
The man who struggled towards the door flattened himself against the floor, moaning pitifully.
"Quick," said Dan, "light a match. Morris's posse is at my heels. No time. If Silent escaped—"
A match flared in the hands of Buck.
"Who's that? Haines!"
"Let him alone, Dan! I'll tell you why later. There's Jordan and Kilduff. That one by the door is Rhinehart."
They ran from one to the other, greeted by groans and deep curses.
"Who's that beneath the window?"
"Too small for Silent. It's Purvis, and he's dead!"
"Bart got him!"
"No! It was fear that killed him. Look at his face!"
"Bart, go out to Satan!"
The wolf trotted from the room.
"My God, Buck, I've done all this for nothin'! It was Silent that got away!"
"What's that?"
Over the groans of the wounded came the sound of running horses, not one, but many, then a call: "Close in! Close in!"
"The posse!" said Dan.
As he jerked open the door a bullet smashed the wood above his head. Three horsemen were closing around Satan and Black Bart. He leaped back into the room.
"They've got Satan, Buck. We've got to try it on foot. Go through the window."
"They've got nothing on me. I'll stick with Haines."
Dan jumped through the window, and raced to the shelter of a big rock. He had hardly dropped behind it when four horsemen galloped around the corner of the house.
"Johnson and Sullivan," ordered the voice of Monte sharply, "watch the window. They're lying low inside, but we've got Barry's horse and wolf. Now we'll get him."
"Come out or we'll burn the house down!" thundered a voice from the other side.
"We surrender!" called Buck within.
A cheer came from the posse. Sullivan and Johnson ran for the window they had been told to guard. The door on the other side of the house slammed open.
"It's a slaughter house!" cried one of the posse.
Dan left the sheltering rock and raced around the house, keeping a safe distance, and dodging from rock to rock. He saw Satan and Black Bart guarded by two men with revolvers in their hands. He might have shot them down, but the distance was too great for accurate gun-play. He whistled shrilly. The two guards wheeled towards him, and as they did so, Black Bart, leaping, caught one by the shoulder, whirling him around and around with the force of the spring. The other fired at Satan, who raced off towards the sound of the whistle. It was an easy shot, but in the utter surprise of the instant the bullet went wide. Before he could fire again Satan was coming to a halt beside Dan.
"Help!" yelled the cattleman. "Whistling Dan!"
The other guard opened fire wildly. Three men ran from the house. All they saw was a black shadow which melted instantly into the night.
36. FEAR
Into the dark he rode. Somewhere in the mountains was Silent, and now alone. In Dan's mouth the old salt taste of his own blood was unforgotten.
It was a wild chase. He had only the faintest clues to guide him, yet he managed to keep close on the trail of the great outlaw. After several days he rode across a tall red-roan stallion, a mere wreck of a horse with lean sides and pendant head and glazed eye. It was a long moment before Dan recognized Silent's peerless mount, Red Pete. The outlaw had changed his exhausted horse for a common pony. The end of the long trail must be near.
The whole range followed that chase with breathless interest. It was like the race of Hector and Achilles around the walls of Troy. And when they met there would be a duel of giants. Twice Whistling Dan was sighted. Once Jim Silent fought a running duel with a posse fresh from Elkhead. The man hunters were alert, but it was their secret hope that the two famous outlaws would destroy each other, but how the wild chase would end no one could know. At last Buck Daniels rode to tell Kate Cumberland strange news.
When he stumbled into the ranch house, Kate and her father rose, white- faced. There was an expression of waiting terror in their eyes.
"Buck!" cried Joe.
"Hush!
