d think of nothing much else but a possible way to
dislodge him from the pinnacle of his local notoriety, and so rid the
district of the threat of his presence.

How much of this feeling was purely personal, inspired by the natural
antagonism of a strong, even violent, nature against a man whose very
existence was an everlasting challenge to him, and how far it was the
result of an unadmitted sympathy for Scipio, it would have been
impossible to tell in a man like Wild Bill. Reason was not in such
things with him. He never sought reasons where his feelings were
concerned. James must go. And so his whole mind and force was given up
to a search for adequate means to accomplish his purpose.

The problem was not easy. And when things were not easy to him, Bill's
temper invariably suffered. Besides, scheming was never pleasant to
him. He was so essentially a man of action. An open battle appealed to
him as nothing else in the world appealed to him. Force of arms--that
was his conception of the settlement of human differences.

He admitted to himself that the events of the day had stirred his
"bile." He felt that he must hit out to ease himself, and the one
direction to hit out in which would have given him any satisfaction
was not yet available. So he brooded on, a smoldering volcano which
his acquaintances avoided with a care inspired by past experience.

But his mood was bound to find an outlet somehow. It is always so. If
the opportunity does not come naturally, ill-temper will make one. It
was this way with the gambler. A devilish impulse caught him just as
supper was nearing its finish.

The thought occurred with the entrance of Sandy Joyce, who took the
empty place at the table on Bill's right. Birdie was hovering near,
and, as Sandy took his seat, she suddenly dumped a fresh cup of coffee
before the gambler. She giggled coyly as the cup clattered on the bare
table.

"I ain't set sugar in it, Bill," she said sweetly, and reached towards
the sugar-bowl.

But the man pushed her arm roughly aside.

"Oh, skip!" he cried. "You make me sick."

His bearishness in no way disconcerted the girl. She persisted, and
dropped two spoonfuls of granulated sugar into his cup.

"Some folks need sugar," she remarked, with another giggle, as she
moved away. And somehow it was Bill who had suffered loss of dignity.

This only helped to aggravate his mood, and he turned his small eyes
sharply on Sandy.

"I'm needin' someone t