THE LAST TRUMP
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rocked the building upon its foundations accompanied the shattering of a huge stained glass window.
A bolt of bluish flame of dazzling brilliance slashed through the window like a flaming sword and smote the pistol in the hand of Seneca Trine, discharging the weapon even as it struck him dead.
As he fell, the bolt swerved and struck two others down—Alan Law and the woman who had just been made his wife.
