to come in at his back door
and fall upon him in surprise! Peden's resentment rose in that second of
reflection with the dull fire that spread in his dark face. He flung his
hand to his revolver, throwing aside the skirt of his long coat.

"Let your gun stay where it is," Morgan quietly advised him. "Get these
people out of here, and close this place."

"Show me your authority!" Peden demanded, scouting for a moment of
precious time.

The musicians in the little orchestra pit behind Morgan ceased playing
on a broken note, the shuffle of dancing feet stopped short. Up the long
bar the loud hilarity quieted; across the hall the clash of pool balls
cut sharply into the sudden stillness. As quickly as wind makes a rift
in smoke the revelers fell away from Morgan and Peden, leaving a fairway
for the shooting they expected to begin at the door. Peden stood as he
had stopped, hand upon his gun.

Morgan stepped up to him in one long, quick stride, rifle muzzle close
against Peden's broad white shirt front. In that second of hesitant
delay, that breath of portentous bluff, Morgan had read Peden to the
roots. A man who had it in him to shoot did not stop at anybody's word
when he was that far along the way.

"Clear this place and lock it up!" Morgan repeated.

The temperature of the crowded hall seemed to fall forty degrees in the
second or two Morgan stood pushing his rifle against Peden's breastbone.
Those who had talked with loud boasts, picturesque threats, high-pitched
laughter, of going out to find this man but a little while before, were
silent now and cold around the gills as fish.

Morgan was watching the two men at the front door while he held Peden up
those few seconds. He knew there was no use in disarming Peden, to turn
him loose where he could get fifty guns in the next two seconds if he
wanted them. He believed, in truth, there was not much to fear from this
fellow, who depended on his hired retainers to do his killing for him.
So, when Peden, watching Morgan calculatively, shifted a little to get
himself out of line so he would not stand a barrier between his
gun-slingers and their target and longer block the opening of operations
to clear the hall of this upstart, Morgan let him go. Then, with a
sudden bound, Peden leaped across into the crowd.

A moment of strained waiting, quiet as the empty night, Morgan standing
out a fair target for any man who had the nerve to pull a gun. Then a
stampede in more o