boomed while it was pointed downward and he was falling. His
bullet scattered dust and gravel at Duane's feet. He fell
loosely, without contortion.

In a flash all was reality for Duane. He went forward and held
his gun ready for the slightest movement on the part of Bain.
But Bain lay upon his back, and all that moved were his breast
and his eyes. How strangely the red had left his face--and also
the distortion! The devil that had showed in Bain was gone. He
was sober and conscious. He tried to speak, but failed. His
eyes expressed something pitifully human. They
changed--rolled--set blankly.

Duane drew a deep breath and sheathed his gun. He felt calm and
cool, glad the fray was over. One violent expression burst from
him. "The fool!"

When he looked up there were men around him.

"Plumb center," said one.

Another, a cowboy who evidently had just left the gaming-table,
leaned down and pulled open Bain's shirt. He had the ace of
spades in his hand. He laid it on Bain's breast, and the black
figure on the card covered the two bullet-holes just over
Bain's heart.

Duane wheeled and hurried away. He heard another man say:

"Reckon Cal got what he deserved. Buck Duane's first gunplay.