"But some of the ruffians of Lord Nick--"

"If they dared to even raise their voices at you, they would hear from him in a manner that they would never forget."

"Then you don't wish to go?"

She was very pale now; and to Donnegan it was more terrible than the gun in the hand of Lord Nick. Even if she thought he was slighting her why should she take it so mortally to heart? For Donnegan, who saw all things, was blind to read the face of this girl.

"It doesn't really matter," she murmured and turned away.

A gentle motion, but it wrenched the heart of Donnegan. He was instantly before her.

"Wait here a moment. I'll be ready to go down immediately."

"No. I can't take you from your--work."

What work did she a.s.sign to him in her imagination? Endless planning of deviltry no doubt.

"I shall go with you," said Donnegan. "At first--I didn't dream it could be so important. Let me get my hat."

He left her and leaped back into the cabin.

"I am going down into The Corner for a moment," he said over his shoulder to George, as he took his belt down from the wall.

The big man strode to the wall and took his hat from a nail.

"I shall not need you, George."

But George merely grinned, and his big teeth flashed at the master. And in the second place he took up a gun from the drawer and offered it to Donnegan.

"The gun in that holster ain't loaded," he said.

Donnegan considered him soberly.

"I know it. There'll be no need for a loaded gun."

But once more George grinned. All at once Donnegan turned pale.

"You dog," he whispered. "Did you listen at the door when Nick was here?"

"Me?" murmured George. "No, I just been thinking."

And so it was that while Donnegan went down the hill with Lou Macon, carrying an empty-chambered revolver, George followed at a distance of a few paces, and he carried a loaded weapon unknown to Donnegan.

It was the dull time of the day in The Corner. There were very few people in the single street, and though most of them turned to look at the little man and the girl who walked beside him, not one of them either smiled or whispered.

"You see?" said Donnegan. "You would have been perfectly safe--even from Lord Nick's ruffians. That was one of his men we pa.s.sed back there."

"Yes. I'm safe with you," said the girl.

And when she looked up to him, the blood of Donnegan turned to fire.

Out of a shop door before them came a girl with a parcel under her arm.

She wore a gay, semi-masculine outfit, bright-colored, jaunty, and she walked with a lilt toward them. It was Nelly Lebrun. And as she pa.s.sed them. Donnegan lifted his hat ceremoniously high. She nodded to him with a smile, but the smile aimed wan and small in an instant. There was a quick widening and then a narrowing of her eyes, and Donnegan knew that she had judged Lou Macon as only one girl can judge another who is lovelier.

He glanced at Lou to see if she had noticed, and he saw her raise her head and go on with her glance proudly straight before her; but her face was very pale, and Donnegan knew that she had guessed everything that was true and far more than the truth. Her tone at the door of the post office was ice.

"I think you are right, Mr. Donnegan. There's no danger. And if you have anything else to do, I can get back home easily enough."

"I'll wait for you," murmured Donnegan sadly, and he stood as the door of the little building with bowed head.

And then a murmur came down the street. How small it was, and how sinister! It consisted of exclamations begun, and then broken sharply off. A swirl of people divided as a cloud of dust divides before a blast of wind, and through them came the gigantic figure of Lord Nick!

On he came, a gorgeous figure, a veritable king of men. He carried his hat in his hand and his red hair flamed, and he walked with great strides. Donnegan glanced behind him. The way was clear. If he turned, Lord Nick would not pursue him, he knew.

But to flee even from his brother was more than he could do; for the woman he loved would know of it and could never understand.

He touched the holster that held his empty gun--and waited!

An eternity between every step of Lord Nick. Others seemed to have sensed the meaning of this silent scene. People seemed to stand frozen in the midst of gestures. Or was that because Donnegan's own thoughts were traveling at such lightning speed that the rest of the world seemed standing still? What kept Lou Macon? If she were with him, not even Lord Nick in his madness would force on a gunplay in the presence of a woman, no doubt.

Lord Nick was suddenly close; he had paused; his voice rang over the street and struck upon Donnegan's ear as sounds come under water.

"Donnegan!"

"Aye!" called Donnegan softly.

"It's the time!"

"Aye," said Donnegan.

Then a huge body leaped before him; it was big George. And as he sprang his gun went up with his hand in a line of light. The two reports came close together as finger taps on a table, and big George, completing his spring, lurched face downward into the sand.

Dead? Not yet. All his faith and selflessness were nerving the big man.

And Donnegan stood behind him, unarmed!

He reared himself upon his knees--an imposing bulk, even then, and fired again. But his hand was trembling, and the bullet shattered a sign above the head of Lord Nick. He, in his turn, it seemed to Donnegan that the motion was slow, twitched up the muzzle of his weapon and fired once more from his hip. And big George lurched back on the sand, with his face upturned to Donnegan. He would have spoken, but a burst of blood choked him; yet his eyes fixed and glazed, he mustered his last strength and offered his revolver to Donnegan.

But Donnegan let the hand fall limp to the ground. There were voices about him; steps running; but all that he clearly saw was Lord Nick with his feet braced, and his head high.

"Donnegan! Your gun!"

"Aye," said Donnegan.

"Take it then!"

But in the crisis, automatically Donnegan flipped his useless revolver out of its holster and into his hand. At the same instant the gun from Nick's hand seemed to blaze in his eyes. He was struck a crushing blow in his chest. He sank upon his knees: another blow struck his head, and Donnegan collapsed on the body of big George.