turned their heads, for nothing
is so ghastly as the sight of a man who is taking water.

"Hush," said Donnegan. "I'm going to kill you, Jack. But I want to kill
you fairly and squarely. There's no pleasure, you see, in beating a
youngster like you to the draw. I want to give you a fighting chance.
Besides"--he removed one hand from behind his head and waved it
carelessly to where the men of The Corner crouched in the shadow--"you
people have seen me drill one chap already, and I'd like to shoot you in
a new way. Is that agreeable?"

Two terrible, known figures detached themselves from the gloom near the
door.

"Hark to this gent sing," said one, and his name was the Pedlar. "Hark
to him sing, Jack, and we'll see that you get fair play."

"Good," said his friend, Joe Rix. "Let him take his try, Jack."

As a matter of fact, had Donnegan reached for a gun, he would have been
shot before even Landis could bring out a weapon, for the steady eye of
Joe Rix, hidden behind the Pedlar, had been looking down a revolver
barrel at the forehead of Donnegan, waiting for that first move. But
something about the coolness of Donnegan fascinated them.

"Don't shoot, Joe," the Pedlar had said. "That bird is the chief over
again. Don't plug him!"

And that was why Donnegan lived.

23

If he had taken the eye of the hardened Rix and the still harder Pedlar,
he had stunned the men of The Corner. And breathlessly they waited for
his proposal to Jack Landis.

He spoke with his hands behind his head again, after he had slowly taken
out a handkerchief and wiped his chin.

"I'm a methodical fellow, Landis," he said. "I hate to do an untidy
piece of work. I have been disgusted with myself since my little falling
out with Lewis. I intended to shoot him cleanly through the hand, but
instead of that I tore up his whole forearm. Sloppy work, Landis. I
don't like it. Now, in meeting you, I want to do a clean, neat, precise
job. One that I'll be proud of."

A moaning voice was heard faintly in the distance. It was the Pedlar,
who had wrapped himself in his gaunt arms and was crooning softly, with
unspeakable joy: "Hark to him sing! Hark to him sing! A ringer for the
chief!"

"Why should we be in such a hurry?" continued Donnegan. "You see that
clock in the corner? Tut, tut! Turn your head and look. Do you think
I'll drop you while you look around?"

Landis flung one glance over his shoulder at the big clock, whose
pendulum w