There was an echo from the front, and the man behind, who risked so much on one shot, lurched into the aisle, swaying uncertainly between the seats.

He of the mask fired again, viciously, and the other collapsed into a still, awkwardly huddled heap on the floor.

The revolver dropped from his fingers and struck against Thurston's foot, making him wince.
Thurston had never before seen death come to a man, and the very suddenness of it unnerved him.

All his faculties were numbed before that terrible, pitiless form in the door, and the limp, dead body at his feet in the aisle.

He did not even remember that here was the savage local color he had come far a-seeking.