Hopkins countered; the pistol went flying. Terry staggered back, while Hopkins made another clutch at his intended prisoner.
Then occurred, with lightning speed, an unexpected thing. Terry, recovering his balance, sprang forward, drew the bowie knife he always carried and plunged it, with a vicious thrust, into Hopkins' neck.
CHAPTER L
THE COMMITTEE DISBANDS
Alice Windham and her little son, named Robert for his grandfather, were passing Coleman's store, en route to Benito's office; it was a pleasant, quiet afternoon, almost windless. The infant Robert toddled manfully along on his five-year legs, holding tightly to his mother's hand.
Men began to rush by, jostling them in their haste. The child drew closer to his mother. More men passed. Some of them were carrying guns. Coleman, emerging hurriedly, stopped at sight of Mrs. Windham.
"Better go inside," he advised, "there's trouble afoot." He picked up the now frightened child and escorted the mother to his office. "Sit down," he invited. "It's comfortable here ... and safe."
Before she could thank him he was off. At the door Miers Truett hailed him. "Hopkins stabbed," she heard him pant. He had been running. "May die ... Terry did it."
They went off together. Other men stood in the doorway. "By the Eternal!" one was saying. "A Judge of the Supreme Court! What will Coleman do? They can't arrest Terry."