boy had his head within the door.

Morgan heard the operator denying Conboy the secret of the message in
the hall outside his door. Conboy had lived long enough in Ascalon to
know when to curb his curiosity. He tiptoed away from Morgan's door,
repressing his desire behind his beard.

Knowing that he could not sleep again after that abrupt break in his
rest, Morgan rose and dressed. Once or twice he referred again to the
message that lay spread on his pillow.

Craddock wired Peden last night that he would arrive on number
seven at 1:20 this afternoon.

That was the content of the message, not a telegram at all, but a
friendly note of warning from the night operator, who had come over to
the hotel to go to bed. The young man had shrewdly adopted this means to
cover his information, knowing that Peden's wrath was mighty and his
vengeance far-reaching. Nobody in town could question the delivery of a
telegram.

Morgan had expected Craddock to hasten back and attempt to recover his
scepter and resume his sway over Ascalon, where the destructive sickle
of his passion for blood could be plied with safety under the shelter of
his prostituted office. But he did not expect him to return so soon. It
pleased him better that the issue was to be brought to a speedy trial
between them. While he had his feet wet, he reasoned, he would just as
well cross the stream.

Conboy was sweeping the office, having laid the thick of the dust with a
sprinkling can. He paused in his work to give Morgan a shrewd, sharp
look.

"Important news when it pulls a man out of bed this early," Conboy
ventured, "and him needin' sleep like you do."

"Yes," said Morgan, going on to the door.

Conboy came after him, voice lowered almost to a whisper as he spoke,
eyes turning about as if he expected a spy to bob up behind his
counter.

"I heard it passed around late last night that Craddock was comin'
back."

"Wasn't he expected to?" Morgan inquired, indifferently, wholly
undisturbed.

Conboy watched him keenly, standing half behind him, to note any sign of
panic or uneasiness that would tell him which side he should support
with his valuable sympathy and profound philosophy.

"From the way things point, I think they're lookin' for him back today,"
he said.

"The quicker the sooner," Morgan replied in offhand cowboy way.

Conboy was left on middle ground, not certain whether Morgan would flee
before the arrival of the man whose powers