"The first swing of the hammer it met something hard, but not as hard
as iron. The thing crunched with a sound like an egg under a man's
heel. And when that crowd heard it they looked sick. God, how sick
they looked! They didn't wait for no second swing, but they beat it
hard and fast through the door with me after 'em. They scattered, but
I kept right on and didn't never really stop till I reached the
mountain-desert and you, Jim."
"Which is a good yarn," said Bud Mansie, "but I can tell you one
that'll cap it. It was--"
He stopped short, staring up at the door. Outside, the wind had kept
up a perpetual roaring, and no one noticed the noise of the opening
door. Bud Mansie, facing that door, however, turned a queer yellow
and sat with his lips parted on the last word. He was not pretty to
see. The others turned their heads, and there followed the strangest
panic which Pierre had ever seen.
Jim Boone jerked his hand back to his hip, but stayed the motion, half
completed, and swung his hands stiffly above his head.
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