All four of the fighting men crashed together and went down in a confused mass. The shock broke Duval's hold, and as they came up Norton drove with his knife. He felt the steel bite, but still Duval fought on, flinging himself forward bodily and bearing Norton down again.
Meantime, Grigg and Red Hugh were engaged in a mighty struggle, strength against strength, giant against giant. Reeling over the turf, the four men again came together in mad collision; as they did so, Norton sent his knife home for the second time, and now Duval fell away from him.
Barely had he done so when Red Hugh's pistol crashed out. Grigg had taken warning, and ducked, flinging his arms about Moore's waist. Directly behind him was Norton, and as the shot flamed out, the Louisianian flung his arms wide and toppled over the body of Duval.
Then, for the first time, Tecumthe leaped forward. Frenzied by what he had done, Red Hugh had beaten Grigg back with the pistol-butt, and Grigg flashed out his tomahawk to throw. Before his arm came up, Tecumthe had sprung between them like a thing of steel; his own knife flamed in the lurid glare, and Grigg collapsed.
Red Hugh stood for a moment, pistol in hand. There was a look of awful grief on his face, and without a word he knelt over Norton.
For a moment he felt the heart of the Louisianian, fumbled under the latter's shirt, and then held up a small gold eagle.
"Good God," he muttered slowly, as he held the eagle up to the lurid light of the burning buildings. "What's this? What——"
For he had turned over the pin, and had read the letters graven on its under side. Slowly he tottered up, then looked at the uncomprehending Tecumthe, a terrible horror in his eyes.
"Hugh Edward Moore—my own pin—I've killed him——"
And then, with a terrible cry, he fell upon Norton's body.