ough it,
would rake the interior of the cabin from end to end. The only way the
inmates could keep out of the line of his fire was by hugging the walls
on either side, where they would be partially exposed to the leaden hail
which Santry and the punchers were directing at the windows.

There was a grim, baleful look on the young man's usually pleasant face,
and his eyes held a pitiless gleam. He was shooting straight, shooting
to kill, and taking a fierce delight in the act. The blood lust was upon
him, that primal, instinctive desire for combat in a righteous cause
that lies hidden at the very bottom of every strong man's nature. And
there came to his mind no possible question of the righteous nature of
his cause. He was fighting to regain possession of his own home from the
marauders who had invaded it. His enemies had crowded him to the wall,
and now they were paying the penalty. Wade worked the lever of his
Winchester as though he had no other business in life. A streak of
yellow clay mingled with a bloody trickle from a bullet scratch on his
cheek gave his set features a fairly ferocious expression.

Santry, glancing toward him, chuckled again, but without mirth. "The
boy's woke up at last," he muttered to himself. "They've drove him to
it, durn 'em. I knew almighty well that this law an' order stunt
couldn't last forever. Wow!"

The latter exclamation was caused by a bullet which ricocheted from a
rock near his head, driving a quantity of fine particles into his face.

"Whoop-e-e-e-e!" he howled a moment later. "We got 'em goin'. It's a
cinch they can't stand this pace for more'n a week."

Indeed, it was a marvel that the defenders kept on fighting as long as
they did. Already the door, beneath Wade's machine-like shooting, had
been completely riddled; the windows were almost bare of glass; and
great splinters of wood had been torn from the log walls by the heavy
rifle bullets on their way through to the interior. Soon the door sagged
and crashed inward, and into the gaping hole thus made Wade continued to
empty his rifle.

At last, the fire of those within slackened and temporarily ceased. Did
this mean surrender? Wade asked himself and ordered his men to stop
shooting and await developments. For some moments all was still, and the
advisability of rushing the house was being discussed when all at once
the fire of the defenders began again. This time, however, there was
something very odd about it. There was