It was Joan, and for
Joan!
"Not a step!" she whispered, and jerked out her gun. "Not a step!"
He stood with one hand trailing carelessly from his hip, and at the gleam
of her steel his other hand dropped to a holster, fumbled there, and came
away empty; he could not touch her, not with the weight of a finger. That
thoughtful whistle came again: once more the answering whistle drifted out
from the house; and he moved forward another pace.
She had chosen her mark carefully, the upper corner of the seam of the
pocket upon his shirt, and before his foot struck the ground she fired. For
an instant she felt that she missed the mark, for he stood perfectly
upright, but when she saw that the yellow was gone from his eyes. They were
empty of everything except a great wonder. He wavered to his knees, and
then sank down with his arms around Black Bart. He seemed, indeed, to
crumple away into the night. Then she heard a shouting and trampling in
the house, and a breaking open of doors, and she knew that she had killed
Whistling Dan. She would have gone to him, but the snarl of Bart drove her
back.
Pages:
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376