"That's a lie," Will called, shortly. Others took up the cry.
The guards raised menacing pistols.
A striker, his temper on fire from continuing irritations, dropped behind the nearest steps, levelled his pistol, and shot toward the armed group.
Diana ran out flying, shielding Will. "Don't shoot my brother, you scoundrels——"
Jim's pistol, carefully aimed at the black striker, crackled viciously. Tongues of flame spoke from the armed deputies.
"You plugged the gal," Huggins grinned casually, aiming again. "We got both coons."
The astounded citizens ran between the sudden murderous combatants. "This won't do!"
"The house is burning, while you're killing each other!"
The chemical engine swung around the southern curve of the road, jetting ineffectually against the greedy insanity of the flames. The strikers took up the four bodies, and carried them somberly to Hewintown, Stella Cole following, dry-eyed and shivering with uncomprehending hatred.
Pelham and Jane walked among the smouldering ruins the next day, their hearts bitter at the headlines which blamed the strikers for the burning. "There's no dirtiness they won't stoop to," he raged. "Hanging's too good for those editors."