h your entertainment, but now it is time
to call a halt."

Davis looked at him expectantly.

"Well?" he queried.

"Just this," said Jack calmly. "Unless you drop that revolver this
minute, I shall have to take it away from you."

He gazed at Davis steadily.

The latter's shifty eyes could not meet the steady gaze of the lad and
he looked away, but kept Jack covered with his revolver.

"Oh, I guess not," he said.

"Oh, yes I shall," said Jack easily.

"Come," said Davis, pulling himself together and raising his revolver so
it pointed between Jack's eyes. "Enough of this. Get back there now or I
shall fire."

Instead, Jack took a step forward, still looking Davis squarely in the
eyes.

"Put down that gun!" he commanded sharply.

His tone startled Davis, and for a brief moment he allowed the weapon to
waver; and in that moment Jack leaped upon him.

Taken off his guard, Davis nevertheless still had time to raise the
revolver and fire. Jack staggered back as he felt something like a
red-hot iron pierce his right arm; and the member dropped limply to his
side.

Again Davis fired, but Jack ducked even as he pulled the trigger and the
bullet passed over his head.

There was a cry from behind him and Frank pitched forward to the floor.
The bullet had struck him a glancing blow on the side of the head.

Jack's heart grew sick as he heard his chum's cry, for he realized in a
flash what had happened; but he did not turn his head to look. Instead,
stooping low, he leaped lightly forward and seized Davis' pistol arm
even as the man fired again. Jack jerked the arm upward at the moment
the weapon went off and the bullet passed him harmlessly. Then, with a
vigorous wrench, the lad twisted the revolver from Davis' hand and
kicked it to one side as it fell to the floor at his feet. Then he
struck Davis sharply across the face with his left hand, and as the man
staggered back, thrust his hand into the pocket where so recently Davis
had placed his second revolver.

Davis grabbed at it but too late.

Jack stepped back and, walking across the room, picked up the other
weapon. Then, opening the door, he tossed both weapons outside, closed
the door and faced Davis.

"I've still got a couple of guns in my own pockets," he said quietly,
"but I'm going to thrash you within an inch of your life without use of
a weapon--and with a bad arm besides. I may shoot you later, I haven't
decided about that yet. It all depends upon