At
that movement Rufe threw his head up as though his breath had
suddenly failed him, his face turned sickening white, and slowly
again his chin dropped into his trembling hands, and still
unbelieving he stared his appeal, but old Judd dropped his big
hand and turned his head away. The condemned man's mouth twitched
once, settled into defiant calm, and then he did one kindly thing.
He turned in his seat and motioned Bob Berkley, who was just
behind him, away from the window, and the boy, to humour him,
stepped aside. Then he rose to his feet and stretched his arms
wide. Simultaneously came the far-away crack of a rifle, and as a
jet of smoke spurted above a clump of bushes on a little hill,
three hundred yards away, Bad Rufe wheeled half-way round and fell
back out of sight into the sheriff's arms. Every Falin made a
nervous reach for his pistol, the line of gun-muzzles covering
them wavered slightly, but the Tollivers stood still and
unsurprised, and when Hale dashed from the door again, there was a
grim smile of triumph on old Judd's face. He had kept his promise
that Rufe should never hang.
"Steady there," said Hale quietly.
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