23
If he had taken the eye of the hardened Rix and the still harder Pedlar,he had stunned the men of The Corner. And breathlessly they waited forhis proposal to Jack Landis.
He spoke with his hands behind his head again, after he had slowly takenout a handkerchief and wiped his chin.
"I'm a methodical fellow, Landis," he said. "I hate to do an untidypiece of work. I have been disgusted with myself since my little fallingout with Lewis. I intended to shoot him cleanly through the hand, butinstead of that I tore up his whole forearm. Sloppy work, Landis. Idon't like it. Now, in meeting you, I want to do a clean, neat, precisejob. One that I'll be proud of."
A moaning voice was heard faintly in the distance. It was the Pedlar,who had wrapped himself in his gaunt arms and was crooning softly, withunspeakable joy: "Hark to him sing! Hark to him sing! A ringer for thechief!"
"Why should we be in such a hurry?" continued Donnegan. "You see thatclock in the corner? Tut, tut! Turn your head and look. Do you thinkI'll drop you while you look around?"
Landis flung one glance over his shoulder at the big clock, whosependulum worked solemnly back and forth.
"In five minutes," said Donnegan, "it will be eleven o'clock. And whenit's eleven o'clock the clock will chime. Now, Landis, you and I shallsit down here like gentlemen and drink our liquor and think our lastthoughts. Heavens, man, is there anything more disagreeable than beinghurried out of life? But when the clock chimes, we draw our guns andshoot each other through the heart--the brain--wherever we have chosen.But, Landis, if one of us should inadvertently--or throughnervousness--beat the clock's chime by the split part of a second, thegood people of The Corner will fill that one of us promptly full oflead."
He turned to the crowd.
"Gentlemen, is it a good plan?"
As well as a Roman crowd if it wanted to see a gladiator die, the frayednerves of The Corner responded to the stimulus of this delightfulentertainment. There was a joyous chorus of approval.
"When the clock strikes, then," said Landis, and flung himself down in achair, setting his teeth over his rage.
Donnegan smiled benevolently upon him; then he turned again and beckonedto George. The big man strode closer and leaned.
"George," he said. "I'm not going to kill this fellow."
"No, sir; certainly, sir," whispered the other. "George can kill him foryou, sir."
Donnegan smiled wanly.
"I'm not going to kill him, George, on account of the girl on the hill.You know? And the reason is that she's fond of the lubber. I'll try tobreak his nerve, George, and drill him through the arm, say. No, I can'ttake chances like that. But if I have him shaking in time, I'll shoothim through the right shoulder, George.
"But if I miss and he gets me instead, mind you, never raise a handagainst him. If you so much as touch his skin, I'll rise out of my graveand haunt you. You hear? Good-by, George."
But big George withdrew without a word, and the reason for hisspeechlessness was the glistening of his eyes.
"If I live," said Donnegan, "I'll show that George that I appreciatehim."
He went on aloud to Landis: "So glum, my boy? Tush! We have still fourminutes left. Are you going to spend your last four minutes hating me?"
He turned: "Another liqueur, George. Two of them."
The big man brought the drinks, and having put one on the table ofDonnegan, he was directed to take the other to Landis.
"It's really good stuff," said Donnegan. "I'm not an expert on thesematters; but I like the taste. Will you try it?"
It seemed that Landis dared not trust himself to speech. As though avast and deadly hatred were gathered in him, and he feared lest itshould escape in words the first time he parted his teeth.
He took the glass of liqueur and slowly poured it upon the floor. Fromthe crowd there was a deep murmur of disapproval. And Landis, feelingthat he had advanced the wrong foot in the matter, glowered scornfullyabout him and then stared once more at Donnegan.
"Just as you please," said Donnegan, sipping his glass. "But rememberthis, my young friend, that a fool is a fool, drunk or sober."
Landis showed his teeth, but made no other answer. And Donnegananxiously flashed a glance at the clock. He still had three minutes.Three minutes in which he must reduce this stalwart fellow to atrembling, nervous wreck. Otherwise, he must shoot to kill, or else sitthere and become a certain sacrifice for the sake of Lou Macon. Yet hecontrolled the muscles of his face and was still able to smile as heturned again to Landis.
"Three minutes left," he said. "Three minutes for you to composeyourself, Landis. Think of it, man! All the good life behind you. Haveyou nothing to remember? Nothing to soften your mind? Why die, Landis,with a curse in your heart and a scowl on your lips?"
Once more Landis stirred his lips; but there was only the flash of histeeth; he maintained his resolute silence.
"Ah," murmured Donnegan, "I am sorry to see this. And before all youradmirers, Landis. Before all your friends. Look at them scattered thereunder the lights and in the shadows. No farewell word for them? Nothingkindly to say? Are you going to leave them without a syllable ofgoodfellowship?"
"Confound you!" muttered Landis.
There was another hum from the crowd; it was partly wonder, partlyanger. Plainly they were not pleased with Jack Landis on this day.
Donnegan shook his head sadly.
"I hoped," he said, "that I could teach you how to die. But I fail. Andyet you should be grateful to me for one thing, Jack. I have kept youfrom being a murderer in cold blood. I kept you from killing adefenseless man as you intended to do when you walked up to me a momentago."
He smiled genially in mockery, and there was a scowl on the face ofLandis.
"Two minutes," said Donnegan.
Leaning back in his chair, he yawned. For a whole minute he did notstir.
"One minute?" he murmured inquisitively.
And there was a convulsive shudder through the limbs of Landis. It wasthe first sign that he was breaking down under the strain. Thereremained only one minute in which to reduce him to a nervous wreck!
The strain was telling in other places. Donnegan turned and saw in theshadow and about the edges of the room a host of drawn, tense faces andburning eyes. Never while they lived would they forget that scene.
"And now that the time is close," said Donnegan, "I must look to mygun."
He made a gesture; how it was, no one was swift enough of eye to tell,but a gun appeared in his hand. At the flash of it, Landis' weaponleaped up to the mark and his face convulsed. But Donnegan calmly spunthe cylinder of his revolver and held it toward Landis, dangling fromhis forefinger under the guard.
"You see?" he said to Landis. "Clean as a whistle, and easy as a girl'ssmile. I hate a stiff action, Jack."
And Landis slowly allowed the muzzle of his own gun to sink. For thefirst time his eyes left the eyes of Donnegan, and sinking, inch byinch, stared fascinated at the gun in the hand of the enemy.
"Thirty seconds," said Donnegan by way of conversation.
Landis jerked up his head and his eyes once more met the eyes ofDonnegan, but this time they were wide, and the pointed glance ofDonnegan sank into them. The lips of Landis parted. His tonguetremblingly moistened them.
"Keep your nerve," said Donnegan in an undertone.
"You hound!" gasped Landis.
"I knew it," said Donnegan sadly. "You'll die with a curse on yourlips."
He added: "Ten seconds, Landis!"
And then he achieved his third step toward victory, for Landis jerkedhis head around, saw the minute hand almost upon its mark, and swungback with a shudder toward Donnegan. From the crowd there was a deepbreath.
And then Landis was seen to raise the muzzle of his gun again, andcrouch over it, leveling it straight at Donnegan. He, at least, wouldsend his bullet straight to the mark when that first chime went hummingthrough the big room.
But Donnegan? He made his last play to shatter the nerve of Landis. W
iththe minute hand on the very mark, he turned carelessly, the revolverstill dangling by the trigger guard, and laughed toward the crowd.
And out of the crowd there came a deep, sobbing breath of heartbreakingsuspense.
It told on Landis. Out of the corner of his eye Donnegan saw the musclesof the man's face sag and tremble; saw him allow his gun to fall, inimitation of Donnegan, to his side; and saw the long arm quivering.
And then the chime rang, with a metallic, sharp click and then a longand reverberant clanging.
With a gasp Landis whipped up his gun and fired. Once, twice, again, theweapon crashed. And, to the eternal wonder of all who saw it, at adistance of five paces Landis three times missed his man. But Donnegan,sitting back with a smile, raised his own gun almost with leisure,unhurried, dropped it upon the mark, and sent a forty-five slug throughthe right shoulder of Jack Landis.
The blow of the slug, like the punch of a strong man's fist, knocked thevictim out of his chair to the floor. He lay clutching at his shoulder.
"Gentlemen," said Donnegan, rising, "is there a doctor here?"