“Shut up and sit down!” said Carrigan. And he pointed with a stern arm. She shrank back to the wall. “By God,” snarled Dave Carey, “you can’t talk to girls like that, stranger!” “Then come outside with me an’ I’ll talk to a man. You too, Gordon, you--” A thrilling cry from many women made them all turn. In the door stood Harry During with the light gleaming on his long six-gun. “Gordon,” he called. “Git down an’ crawl like the dirty dog you are!” There was another flash of light on steel. It was the proprietor who had drawn, but he did not attempt to draw a bead on Harry During. His gun cracked; there was a clang of iron and a crash of glass as the big gasoline lamp went out; the hall was flooded with a semi-dark. And with the coming of the darkness fear rushed on the crowd. A stampede started for the door, but who could find the door in that chaos of struggling bodies and swinging shadows? Through the windows came the faint light of the early dawn. “Jac!” cried Carrigan. But tall Ben Craig was already beside her. “Leave it to me!” he said reassuringly. “You didn’t make no mistake when you picked me out. I’ll show you that the mountain-desert’s got one real man to make up for a lot of coyotes!” “Wait!” she pleaded. “Jac!” called Carrigan again. “Here!” “Don’t trust to no one but me,” said Craig. “Then get me out of this mob.” “Follow me.” “I will if I can.” “Then--” He picked her up and lunged forward through the crowd. “Drop her!” commanded the voice of Carrigan. “Not for ten like you.” He released Jac to turn and fight. A fist cracked home against his face, and he swung furiously. They grappled, and Craig felt as if he were fighting a steel automaton. The muscles his hands fell upon were rigid. The fist on his head and ribs beat a tattoo. Dave Carey had found Jac. “Thank God!” he cried. “I thought you were lost. Trust to me. I’ll see you through!” Like Craig, he picked her up. “I’ll take you home if you’ll go with me.” “Anywhere out of this crowd!” “Jac!” “Here!” A hand caught Carey by the shoulder and jerked him around. In the dim light he saw the convulsed face of Carrigan and dropped Jac to strike out with all his might. His blow landed on thin air and a hard fist smashed against his ribs. He went to the floor with a crash. But though his breath was half gone, he clung to his foe and struggled like a wildcat. Wild tales were told of Dave Carey in a fight. He lived up to all those stories now. But finally a clubbed fist drove against the point of his chin. He relaxed. The burly shoulders of Maurie Gordon loomed through the semi-dark above Jac. “Jacqueline!” “Maurie!” “Thank God I’ve found you!” “Yes, thank God!” “This way after me. There’s the door!” “Jac!” “Here!” And a demoniac sprang at Maurie through the dark.