Then Deveny acted. His eyes flaming hate, he drew his pistol with a flashing movement, his face hideous with malignant passion.
He sent one bullet into Harlan’s back and two more as Harlan tumbled forward, sinking to his knees from the shock. But Deveny’s two last bullets went wild, tearing up the grass of the level as the gun loosened in his hand.
For Rogers’ rifle was spitting fire and smoke with venomous rapidity, and Deveny was sinking, his knees doubling under him, his body shuddering with the impact of each bullet.
CHAPTER XXXI
PEACE—AND A SUNSET
Red Linton had recovered—there was no doubt of that. For Linton, though a trifle pale, was vigorous. Vigor was in the look of him as he stood, a slow grin on his face, beside Barbara Morgan at the entrance of the patio of the Rancho Seco ranchhouse.
Barbara was sitting on a bench that ranged the front wall of the building. She was arrayed in a dress of some soft, fluffy material, in which she made a picture that brought a breathless longing into Linton’s heart—a longing which made him feel strangely tender and sympathetic.
But Barbara was not smiling. There was a wistfulness in her eyes that made Linton gulp with jealous thoughts that came to him.