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Page 47
As the light went out Norton leaped away from the door, having little
wish to stand silhouetted against the rectangle of pale light from the
outer night; and, leaping, he poured in his fourth and fifth and sixth
shots in the quarter where he hoped to find Galloway. But always he
remembered where he had seen Elmer Page standing, and always he
remembered Antone behind the bar, and Vidal Nu�ez drawn back into a
corner. His forty-five emptied, he jammed it back into its holster and
stood rigid, staring into the blackness about him, every sense on the
qui vive. Galloway had given over shooting; he might be dead or merely
waiting. Vidal had held his fire, seeming frightened, uncertain, half
stunned. Antone would be leaning forward, peering with frowning eyes,
trying to locate him.
It swept into Norton's mind suddenly that thus, in utter and unexpected
darkness, he had the upper hand. He could shoot, the law riding upon
each flying pellet of lead, and be it Jim Galloway or Antone or Vidal,
or any other of Galloway's crowd who fell, it would be a man who richly
deserved what his fate was bringing him. They, on the other hand,
being many against one, must be careful which way they shot.
He had come for Vidal Nu�ez. The man he wanted was yonder, but a few
feet from him. Duty and desire pointed across the room to the obscure
corner. He moved a cautious foot. The floor complained under his
shifting weight and from Galloway's quarter came a spit of fire. Twin
with it came a shot from behind the bar. That was Antone talking. And
now at last came the other shot from Vidal himself.
Rod Norton's was that type of man which finds caution less to his
liking than headlong action; furthermore, in the present crisis,
caution had seemed the acme of foolhardiness. There are times when
true wisdom lies in taking one's chance boldly, flying half-way to meet
it. Now, as three bullets sang by him, he gathered himself; then,
before the sharp reports had died in his ears, he sprang forward,
hurling himself across the room, striking with his lifted gun as he
went, missing, striking again and experiencing that grinding, crunching
sensation transmitted along the metal barrel as it struck a man fair
upon the head. The man went down heavily and Norton stood over him,
praying that it was Vidal Nu�ez.
Then it was that Julius Struve, having deserted his post at the rear,
smashed through a window with the muzzle of his shotgun, sending the
shade flipping up, springing back from the square of faint light as he
cried out sharply:
"All right, Nort?"
"All right!" cried Norton. "I'm against the north wall; rake the other
side and the bar with your shotgun if they don't step out. You and
Cutter together. I've got Rickard and Nu�ez out of it. Drop your gun,
Galloway; lively, while you've got the chance. Antone, Struve's got a
shotgun!"
Antone cursed, and with the snarl of his voice came the clatter of a
revolver slammed down on the bar. Galloway cursed and fired, emptying
his second gun, crazed with hatred and blind anger. Again, shot for
shot Norton answered him. And again it grew very silent in the Casa
Blanca.
"Out through the window, one by one, with your hands up and your guns
down," shouted Struve; "or I start in. Which is it, boys?"
There was a scramble to obey, the several men who had taken no part
leading the way. As they went out their forms were for a moment
clearly outlined, then swallowed up in the outer darkness. At Struve's
command they lined up against the wall, watched over by the muzzle of
his shotgun. Antone, crying out that he was coming, followed. Elmer
Page, sick and dizzy, was at Antone's heels.
Tom Cutter had gathered up some dry grass, and with that and a
chance-found bit of wood started a blaze near the second window; in its
wavering, uncertain light the faces of the men stood out whitely.
"Galloway is not here yet," he snapped. And, lifting his voice: "Come
on, Galloway."
A crowd had gathered in the street, asking questions that went
unanswered. Other hands added fuel to Cutter's fire. The increasing
light at last penetrated the blackness filling the barroom.
"Come out, Galloway," said Struve coldly. "I've got you covered."
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