Gunmans Reckoning | Page 7

him to the floor was used by Donnegan to turn
them over, and once fairly on top his left hand was instantly at the throat of Lefty.
Twice Lefty made enormous efforts, but then he was done. About his body the limbs of
Donnegan were twisted, tightening with incredible force; just as hot iron bands sink
resistlessly into place. The strangle-hold cut away life at its source. Once he strove to
bury his teeth in the arm of Donnegan. Once, as the horror caught at him, he strove to
shriek for help. All he succeeded in doing was in raising an awful, sobbing whisper. Then,
looking death in the face, Lefty plunged into the great darkness.
4
When he wakened, he jumped at a stride into the full possession of his faculties. He had
been placed near the open door, and the rush of night air had done its work in reviving
him. But Lefty, drawn back to life, felt only a vague wonder that his life had not been
taken. Perhaps he was being reserved by the victor for an Indian death of torment. He felt
cautiously and found that not only were his hands free, but his revolver had not been
taken from him. A familiar weight was on his chest--the very knife had been returned to
its sheath.
Had Donnegan returned these things to show how perfectly he despised his enemy?
"He's gone!" groaned the tramp, sitting up quickly.
"He's here," said a voice that cut easily through the roar of the train. "Waiting for you,
Lefty."
The tramp was staggered again. But then, who had ever been able to fathom the ways of
Donnegan?
"Donnegan!" he cried with a sudden recklessness.
"Yes?"
"You're a fool!"
"Yes?"
"For not finishing the job."
Donnegan began to laugh. In the uproar of the train it was impossible really to hear the
sound, but Lefty caught the pulse of it. He fingered his bruised throat; swallowing was a
painful effort. And an indescribable feeling came over him as he realized that he sat
armed to the teeth within a yard of the man he wanted to kill, and yet he was as
effectively rendered helpless as though iron shackles had been locked on his wrists and

legs. The night light came through the doorway, and he could make out the slender
outline of Donnegan and again he caught the faint luster of that red hair; and out of the
shadowy form a singular power emanated and sapped his strength at the root.
Yet he went on viciously: "Sooner or later, Donnegan, I'll get you!"
The red head of Donnegan moved, and Lefty Joe knew that the younger man was
laughing again.
"Why are you after me?" he asked at length.
It was another blow in the face of Lefty. He sat for a time blinking with owlish stupidity.
"Why?" he echoed. And he spoke his astonishment from the heart.
"Why am I after you?" he said again. "Why, confound you, ain't you Donnegan?"
"Yes."
"Don't the whole road know that I'm after you and you after me?"
"The whole road is crazy. I'm not after you."
Lefty choked.
"Maybe I been dreaming. Maybe you didn't bust up the gang? Maybe you didn't clean up
on Suds and Kennebec?"
"Suds? Kennebec? I sort of remember meeting them."
"You sort of--the devil!" Lefty Joe sputtered the words. "And after you cleaned up my
crowd, ain't it natural and good sense for you to go on and try to clean up on me?"
"Sounds like it."
"But I figured to beat you to it. I cut in on your trail, Donnegan, and before I leave it
you'll know a lot more about me."
"You're warning me ahead of time?"
"You've played this game square with me; I'll play square with you. Next time there'll be
no slips, Donnegan. I dunno why you should of picked on me, though. Just the natural
devil in you."
"I haven't picked on you," said Donnegan.
"What?"
"I'll give you my word."

A tingle ran through the blood of Lefty Joe. Somewhere he had heard, in rumor, that the
word of Donnegan was as good as gold. He recalled that rumor now and something of
dignity in the manner with which Donnegan made his announcement carried a heavy
weight. As a rule, the tramps vowed with many oaths; here was one of the nights of the
road who made his bare word sufficient. And Lefty Joe heard with great wonder.
"All I ask," he said, "is why you hounded my gang, if you wasn't after me?"
"I didn't hound them. I ran into Suds by accident. We had trouble. Then Levine. Then
Kennebec Lou tried to take a fall out of me."
A note of whimsical protest crept into the