The Detroit times. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1903-1920, 1913-05-17

What's the uss!" be cried, spring-
Ing 30 his feet.
Get down, Rogers, Get down, you
fool" cried Stephen angrily.
Il want some Of Binghams luck."
He swung around on his heel, search
Ing the horizon with heavy bloodshot
eyes. where's the west! There's
gold there; put the mules to the wag.
ons-kts be moving-gold! Do you
hear me? Me and Benny needs it,
And before they OWNED his purpose
he had leaped the barricade. Bush.
rod sprang after him and with his
uninjured hand sought to draw him
back; they struggled hercely together
for q moment, and then Rogers exert
Ing his strength dragged him across
the hilltop.
Let him go, Bush" shouted Steph-
en-.
Bushrod freed himself from the
madmans clutch and turned to regain
the shelter Of the wagons: but at this
moment horseman galloped swiftly
up the slope and drew rein not ten
fpaces distant; he threw himself fson,
his horse and raised hts rifie II
might have been some horrid fancy
that the eyes that looked at him out
OF the smear OF paint were Basil
Landray's eyes, but there was no mis-.
taking the beard.
YOU" he cried, and with his left
hand sought to draw the hunting
knife from Its sheath ut his belt,
since save for this he was weapon
less. The fur trader thrust his rifle
across his horses back and taking de-.
liberate aim. fred. Bushrod, with mis-
eyes still fixed intently on his cou.
sins face. and his hand still fumbling
clumsily with the hilt of his knife,
sank first to his knees, then he pitch
ed forward with a single groan.
1t all occupied but an instant In the
doing. yet each slightest detail was
distinct and vivid to Stephen. Until
Bushrod fell he made neither sound
or movement: he burst not use the
loaded rife he held In his hand. since
his brother stood between him and
the fur trader; but an Bushrod sank
to the ground he strobe forward with
his piece resting loosely in the crook
Of his arm. Basil saw him coming and
his first impulse was evidently flight;
then he released his hold on his horse,
dropped his rife. and drawing q pistol
from his belt, stepped eagerly forward
TO meet his cousin.
When the two men were quite near,
the fur trader lifted his pistol Steph-
eli saw his black beard bristle like the
name OF some angry animal. and
caught the CLINT OF his cruel eyes
along the short barrel: the hammer
fell, the cap exploded. but there was
no report and with an oath Basil
threw down the useless weapon.
It's my turn. | knew It woule
come" said Stephen sternly; and he
drew the stock Of his rife up to his
shoulder. He WAS so secure in this
belief OF his, that no power on earth
could have moved him to haste. he
heard the hOof beats OF horses az they
charged up the hill, yet the gun came
slowly 10 his shoulder. and his aim
was taken with the utmost delibera-
ton. II seemed minutes while his
eyes were finding the sights.
Basil, with an uncomfortable emo
ton OF fear and horror, threw out his
arms in a gesture OF mute entreaty;
then he covered his face with his
hands, while sob burst from his
twitching lips; q deep groan followed
almost instantly.
Stephen stood like q man In q daze.
with his still smoking rife held In his
hand. The trampling OF the horses
reused him to some thought OF his
own safety: he took his eyes away
from the writhing figure on the
ground. and turned. intending IL pos
sible to regain the shelter OF the
barricade; but what was the use?
other, for the end had clearly come.
He seized his rife by the barrel and
heaved up the stock.
Come on" he cried hoarsely; and
at his words the dark shouting mass
of straining men and trampiins
horses closed about him.
He struck out fercly but never
blindly. Each time his weapon was
raised he selected his victim. and
each time he crushed the life out OF
this victim with a terrible sweeping
blow: for he ad-gone beyond fear
the dread Of wounds and death. even
the strong desire of mans strength
In It's prime, to live. A dozen guns
blased in his face: now he was down.
nov up; now down again: his footing
sltppery with his own blood and with
that Of his assaiiants+ bat now he
was down. and for the last time: ana
the sayages struggled hercely among
themselves. each intent on striking