Red and Lanky to secure better aim and soon the fire of the defenders
died out.

Johnny dropped his rifle and, drawing his six-shooter, ran out and
dashed for the dilapidated door, while Hopalong covered that opening
with a fusilade.

As Johnny's shoulder sent the framework flying inward he narrowly
missed sudden death. As it was he staggered to the side, out of range,
and dropped full length to the ground, flat on his face. Hopalong's
rifle cracked incessantly, but to no avail. The man who had fired the
shot was dead. Buck got him immediately after he had shot Johnny.

Calling to Skinny and Red to cover him, Buck sprinted to where
Johnny lay gasping. The bullet had struck his shoulder. Buck, Colt in
hand, leaped through the door, but met with no resistance. He signaled
to Hopalong, who yelled, "They's none left."

The trees and rocks and gullies and buildings yielded men who soon
crowded around the hotel. A young doctor, lately graduated, appeared.
it was his first case, but he eased Johnny. Then he went over to
Hopalong, who was now raving, and attended to him. The others were
patched up as well as possible and the struggling young physician had
his pockets crammed full of gold and silver coins.

The scene of the wrecked barroom was indescribable. Holes, furrows,
shattered glass and bottles, the liquor oozing down the walls of the
shelves and running over the floor; the ruined furniture, a wrecked
bar, seared and shattered and covered with blood; bodies as they had
been piled in the corners; ropes, shells, hats; and liquor everywhere,