or the sharp sting
of the indignant voice.

"What do you know regarding her? Speak out, damn you!"

The gambler laughed uneasily; he had seen that look in men's faces
before, and knew its full, deadly meaning. He had already gone to the
very limit of safety.

"Oh, nothing, I assure you. I never even saw the lady," he explained
coldly. "But I have been told that she was _the_ attraction for you in
this camp; and I rather guess I hit the bull's-eye that time, even if
it was a chance shot."

Winston moistened his dry lips, his eyes never wavering from off the
sneering face of the other.

"Farnham," the voice sounding low and distinct, "I have got something
to say to you, and you are going to listen to the end. You see that?"
He thrust sharply forward the skirt of his short coat. "Well, that's a
thirty-eight, cocked and loaded, and I 've got you covered. I know
your style, and if you make a single move toward your hip I 'll uncork
the whole six shots into your anatomy. Understand? Now, see here--I
'm not on the bargain counter for money or anything else. I had not
the slightest personal interest in this affair an hour ago, but I have
now, and, what is more, I am going directly after the facts. Neither
you, nor all of your crowd put together, can stop me with either money,
bullets, or women. I don't bully worth a cent, and I don't scare. You
took the wrong track, and you 've got me ready now to fight this out to
a finish. And the first pointer I desire to give you is this--if your
lips ever again besmirch the name of Beth Norvell to my knowledge, I
'll hunt you down as I would a mad dog. I believe you are a dirty liar
and thief, and now I 'm going after the facts to prove it. Good-night."

He backed slowly toward the curtained doorway, his gaze never wavering
from off the surprised countenance of the other, his hidden hand
grasping the masked revolver. Then he stepped through the opening and
disappeared. Farnham remained motionless, his face like iron, his
teeth gripping savagely. Then he dropped his hand heavily on the
table, still staring, as if fascinated, at the quivering curtains.

"By God, the fellow actually means fight," he muttered slowly. "He
means fight."

CHAPTER IX

THE FORCE OF CIRCUMSTANCES

She had expected the probability of such a happening, yet her face
perceptibly paled while perusing the brief note handed her by the stage
manager upon coming forth from her dressing-