Loudon complied with the request. The removal of the boots must have cruelly hurt the wounded legs, but the man did not even groan. "That's better," muttered the man, when the boots were off. "I was hopin' I wouldn't have to cash with 'em on. Who's yore friend?" Loudon whirled, for his nerves were on edge, and Laguerre, who had entered without a sound, only saved himself from death by a cat-like leap to one side. As it was, Loudon's bullet missed him by the veriest fraction of an inch. Loudon shamefacedly holstered his weapon. "My fault," said Laguerre, calmly. "Nex' time eet ees bes' I speak firs', yes. Who ees de man?" "I dunno. Who are yuh, stranger?" "Did yuh kill him?" queried the stranger, his eyes beginning to film over. "No, he's a friend, too. Can't yuh tell yore name?" "I'm Tom Hallaway," was the thickly uttered response. "Rufe Cutting killed my brother Jim an' stole his pinto hoss. Block was with Cutting, an' helped him. I got 'em both. I said I'd cut Rufe's heart out--an' I sure--done it. Gimme a--drink." But before the water came Tom Hallaway's head fell forward, and he died. "Look here," said Laguerre, who had looked out of the window opposite Tom Hallaway. Loudon went to the window. Beneath it two dead men were sprawled. Their stiffened fingers clutched six-shooters. "They drilled him through the window," said Loudon, "an' he got 'em both." Laguerre nodded solemnly. "Brave man, dat Tom Hallaway," said Telescope Laguerre. CHAPTER XXIV BEFORE THE DAWN The window through which Tom Hallaway had been shot faced the open country. The other two windows in the room flanked the front door. The thoughtful Laguerre had brought Loudon's rifle in with him, and the two men squatted down behind the windows. Their view of Main Street was excellent. They could see almost the whole width of the street from one end of the town to the other. Far down the street the windows of Lainey's Hotel were smoking like the gunports of an old-time line-o'-battle-ship. The men in the hotel seemed to be devoting all their attention to the Happy Heart and the houses between it and Piney Jackson's blacksmith shop. Directly opposite the Happy Heart was a small store from which three or four men were directing a heavy fire at the saloon. Next to the store were four empty corrals, and then came some twenty houses, the twentieth opposite the sheriff's shack. Of these houses all save the three nearest the corrals were silent. The folk in these three were carrying on a duel: with the defenders of the Blue Pigeon Store, whose fire had slackened somewhat. "I hope they haven't got Mike," said Loudon, and drove a bullet close above a window-sill of the middle house of the three. "He's a good fellah." Another bullet nicked the window-sill. "This can't go on forever." Again a bullet shaved the window-sill. "Somethin's going' to pop some soon."