ss and powerful
law.

"The border of Pecos County could have had no greater lesson than
this--Blome face-to-face with the Ranger. That part of the border
present saw its most noted exponent of lawlessness a coward, almost
powerless to go for his gun, fatally sure of his own doom.

"But that moment, seeming so long, really so short, had to end. Blome
made a spasmodic upheaval of shoulder and arm. Snecker a second later
flashed into movement.

"Steele blurred in my sight. His action couldn't be followed. But I saw
his gun, waving up, flame red once--twice--and the reports almost boomed
together.

"Blome bent forward, arm down, doubled up, and fell over the table and
slid to the floor.

"But Snecker's gun cracked with Steele's last shot. I heard the bullet
strike Steele. It made me sick as if it had hit me. But Steele never
budged. Snecker leaped up, screaming, his gun sputtering to the floor.
His left hand swept to his right arm, which had been shattered by
Steele's bullet.

"Blood streamed everywhere. His screams were curses, and then ended,
testifying to a rage hardly human. Then, leaping, he went down on his
knees after the gun.

"Don't pick it up," called Steele; his command would have checked anyone
save an insane man. For an instant it even held Snecker. On his knees,
right arm hanging limp, left extended, and face ghastly with agony and
fiendish fury, he was certainly an appalling sight.

"'Bo, you're courtin' death,' called a hard voice from the crowd.

"'Snecker, wait. Don't make me kill you!' cried Steele swiftly. 'You're
still a boy. Surrender! You'll outlive your sentence many years. I
promise clemency. Hold, you fool!'

"But Snecker was not to be denied the last game move. He scrabbled for
his gun. Just then something, a breathtaking intuition--I'll never know
what--made me turn my head. I saw the bartender deliberately aim a huge
gun at Steele. If he had not been so slow, I would have been too late. I
whirled and shot. Talk about nick of time! Blandy pulled trigger just as
my bullet smashed into his head.

"He dropped dead behind the bar and his gun dropped in front. But he had
hit Steele.

"The Ranger staggered, almost fell. I thought he was done, and, yelling,
I sped to him.

"But he righted himself. Then I wheeled again. Someone in the crowd
killed Bo Snecker as he wobbled up with his gun. That was the signal for
a wild run for outdoors, for cover. I heard the crack of guns and
whistle