The daily Alaskan., 1920-07-06

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 Pinnlng Him HeIplessIy Against tho Wall.
 -. -. ....s o1s ais feet uguin berore Lacy could act, closing with the latter. It was hand-tO-hand, the silent struggle for mastery between two men not un- evenly matched, men asking and re- ceiving no mercy. The revolver of one lay on the floor, the other still reposed on the open desk, and neither could be reached. It was a battle to be fought out with bare hands. Twice Westcott struck, his clenched fist bring ing blood, but Lacy clung to him, one hand twisted in his neck-band, the other viciOusly forcing back his head. Unable to release the grip, Westcott gave back, bending until his adversary was beyond balance; then, suddenly strengthening, hurled the fellow side ways. But by now .Beaton, dazed and confused, was upon his feet. With the below of a wild bull he flung himself on the struggling men, forcing Lacy aside, and smashing into Westcott with all the strength of his body. The im- petus sent all three crashing to the floor.
 Excited voices sounded without; ;
 then blows reSounded against the wood of the locked door, but the three men were oblivious to all but their own struggle. Like so many wild beasts they clutched and struck, unable to diSentangle themselves. Enright, his face like chalk, got to his knees and crept across the floor until his hand closed on Westcott's revolver. Lifting himself by grip on the desk, he swung the weapon forward at the very instant the miner rose staggering, dragging BeatOn with him. There was a flash of flame, sharp report, and Westcott sprang aside, gripping 1 the back of chair. The gunman sank into shapelessneSs on the floor as the chair hurtled through the air straight al EnrlghtS s head.
 With a crash the door fell, and a black mass of men Surged in through the opening, the bartender leading them, an axe in his hand. Beaton lay motiOnlesS just as he had dropped; Fnriyht was in one corner, dazed, un- nCrved, q red gash across his fore head, from which blood dripped, the revolver, struck from his fingers, yet smoking on the floor; Westcott, his clothes torn, his face bruised by blows, breathing heavily, went slowly backward, step by step, to the farther wall, conscious of nothing now but the savagely hostile faces of these new enemies. Lacy, staggering as though drunk, managed to attain his feet, hate, desire for revenge yielding him strength. This was his crowd, and his mind was quick to grasp the oppor- tunity.
 "There's the man who did It." he shouted, his arm flung out toward Westcott. "I saw him shoot. See, that's his gun lying on the floor. Don't let the murderer get away!"
 He started forward, an oath on his lips, and the excited crowd surged ,af. ter, growing anger. Then the mass of them seemed suddenly rent asunder, and the marshal plowed his way through heedlessly, his hat gone, and a blue-barreled gun in either hand. He swept the muzzle of one of these into the bartender's face menaclngly, his eyes searching the maddened crowd.
 Wait a minute, you," he command ed sharply. 'I reckon I've got some thing to say bout this. Put down that axe, Mike, or yell never draw another glass O beer in this camp. You know me, lads, an I never draw except fer business. Shut your mouth, Lacy; don't touch that gun, you fool! l am In charge here-this is my job; and if there is going to be any lynchlng done, it will be after you get me. Stand into that barroom. l mean you, Mike This man Is my prisoner, and I'll de- fend him. Ay! I'll do more, I'll lei him defend himself. Here, Westcott pick up your gun on the floor. Now stand here with me! We're going out through that bunch, and If one of those coyotes puts paw on you. let him have it."
 ,.I lp enough, growing curses, but with no man among them sufficiently reckless to attempt resistance. They lacked leadership. for the little marshal nev- CT once took his eye off Lacy. At the door he turned, walking back ward, trusting In Westcott to keep their path clear, both leveled reyolvers ready for any movement. l
 C (ontinued on Thursday