He could have shot the man, as the other
stood in the doorway. The Wolf had offered a target that it would have
been hard to miss--and it would, one day, have saved the law the same
task! He was a fool, perhaps, that he had not taken what was, perhaps
again, the one chance he had for his life, for he was at a decided
disadvantage now, since he knew intuitively that the Wolf, scuttling
back, had now craftily protected himself behind the jamb of the door,
and yet at the same time still commanded the interior of the room. But
he could not have fired in cold blood like that--even upon the Wolf,
devil though the man was, murderer a dozen times over though he the man
to be! He, Jimmie Dale, had never shot to _kill_ not yet--but in a
fight, cornered, if there was no other way...!
He moved a little, a bare few inches, then a few more--without a sound.
In the light of the match, the Wolf must have seen the dismantled
panelling and the open safe, and a masked figure crouched against the
wall--and the Wolf would have marked the position of that crouched
figure against the wall!
Silence--a minute of it--still another!
Again Jimmie Dale moved inch by inch--toward the window.
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