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Arlie fired and screamed simultaneously. The thud of a fall, the

scuffle of a man gathering himself to his feet again, the rush of

retreating steps, all merged themselves in one single impression

of fierce, exultant triumph.

Her only regret was that she had not killed him. She was not even

sure that she had hit him, for her bullet had gone through the

glass within an inch of the inner woodwork. Nevertheless, she

knew that he had had a shock that would carry him far. Unless he

had accomplices with him--and of that there had been no evidence

at the time of the attack from Bald Knob--he would not venture

another attempt. Of one thing she was sure. The face that had

looked in at the window was one she had never seen before, In

this, too, she found relief--for she knew now that the face she

had expected to see follow the shadow over the pane had been that

of Jed Briscoe; and Jed had too much of the courage of Lucifer

incarnate in him to give up because an unexpected revolver had

been fired in his face.