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.
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