he match had burned out, he
dropped it and slipped fresh cartridges into his gun. That done, he
stooped, gathered up Quinnion's feebly struggling body in his arms and
carried it to the window.

"Here," he said coolly to Carson. "Take him through."

"What the hell do you want of him?" Carson wanted to be told. "Ain't
going to scalp him, are you, Bud?"

"Take him out," commanded Lee with no explanation. Carson obeyed,
jerking the now complaining Quinnion out hastily and unceremoniously.
Lee followed as Steve threw open the barroom door.

"It's a new one on me, just the same," said Carson dryly as he watched
Lee stoop and gather Quinnion up in his arms. "After a little party
like this one, I'm generally travelling on an' not stopping to pick
flowers an' gather sooveneers! You ain't got cannibal blood in you,
have you, Bud?"

While Carson was cudgelling his brains for the answer and Steve was
making cautious examination of the card-room, Lee with his burden in
his arms passed through the darkness lying at the rear of the saloon
and out into the street. Carson followed to take care of a sortie
should Steve and the rest not have had all they wanted for one night.
He chuckled, remarking to himself that Bud Lee and Quinnion were the
very picture of a young mother and her babe in arms.

Not until they again reached the Golden Spur did Lee's burden
completely recover consciousness. Many a man on the street looked
wonderingly after them, demanded to know "what was up," and, receiving
no answer, swung in behind Carson.

In the Golden Spur the arrivals were greeted by a heavy silence. Sandy
Weaver forgot to set out the drinks which had just been ordered by
three men who, in their turn, forgot that they had ordered. Men at the
tables playing cards put down their hands and rose or turned
expectantly in their seats.

Lee put Quinnion down on the floor. The man lay there a moment
blinking at the lights above him and at the faces around him. At
length his eyes came to Lee.

"Damn you," he muttered, trying to rise, and slowly getting to his feet
with the aid of a chair, "I'll get you----"

Then Bud Lee gave his brief explanation, cutting Quinnion's ugly snarl
in two.

"This is Quinnion's farewell party," he said bluntly. "He is a liar
and a crook and an undesirable citizen. I have told him all that
before. He took it upon himself to say about town that I am all of
those things which he is himself. I have dam