His right hand went to his gun, as there came a crashing report. He staggered back, trying to get out the weapon which had not left his holster. He sank down to his knees, still glaring death at the man above him, still fumbling at his gun. Then he lurched forward on his face.
Rathburn flipped his smoking pistol so that its barrel landed in his hand. Then he tendered it, butt foremost, to Sheriff Bob Long. Long took it and threw it on the table, looking first at Rathburn, then at the dead man on the floor. He waved toward the doors and windows.
“You boys can draw back,” he ordered.
Mallory stepped to the fallen Doane. The man’s face had set in a white cast. He felt his heart.
“He did for him,” he said, rising.
Laura Mallory came walking slowly up to the sheriff. Her face was ghastly after what she had witnessed.
“Sheriff Long,” she said in a voice strangely calm, “we heard Eagen”––she shuddered, as she mentioned the name––“ask Roger––ask Mr. Rathburn last night to help with some job that would 248 get them a lot of money. It may be that––that––Fred did plan such a thing. I’m sorry to say it, but Fred had seemed awfully nervous lately, and to-night he came to me and asked me to run away with him––at once. He seemed horribly afraid of something. Anyway, Roger refused to go in with Eagen, and an examination of Fred’s books will tell all.”
She hesitated. Then she spoke slowly and softly.
“I know why Roger robbed the bank and–––”
“Stop, Laura!” cried Rathburn.