Bud Sellers heard the yells of the fugitive Lute, and before he had
time to investigate, saw the stairhead vomiting smoke and fire. As he
dashed for Alexander's room, another door opened through which Halloway
and Brent ran out, carrying their shoes and coats.
"Let me in," shouted Bud, hammering on the panels. "Ther house is
burnin' down an' ther steps is cut off."
At first there was no response, but at last the door swung in. It
framed Alexander, clothed in shirt and trousers--but barefooted, and
holding a pistol in her hand.
At the sight of Bud Sellers her face grew pallid.
"You!" she exclaimed with white-hot anger. "My paw lays over thar with
yore bullet in his breast--an' ye comes runnin' hyar ter me fer a way
ter git outen danger!"
The three men were crowding to the door but she stood barring it and
she did not give back an inch. In deliberation she went on. "He laid
a pledge on me not ter avenge him. Ef hit warn't fer thet, I'd kill ye
whar ye stands."
"Fer God's sake, Alexander!" The mountaineer's voice was shrill with
excitement.
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