allowing the combat to occur. He
asked him about it when they entered the shack to which Brokaw guided
him, and after they had lighted a lamp. It was a small, gloomy,
whisky-smelling place. Brokaw went directly to a box nailed against the
wall and returned with a quart flask that resembled an army canteen,
and two tin cups. He sat down at a small table, his bloated, red face in
the light of the lamp, that queer animal-like rumbling in his throat, as
he turned out the liquor. David had heard porcupines make something like
the same sound. He pulled his hat lower over his eyes to hide the gleam
of them as Brokaw told him what he and Hauck had planned. The bear in
the cage belonged to him--Brokaw. A big brute. Fierce. A fighter. Hauck
and he were going to bet on his bear because it would surely kill Tara.
Make a big clean-up, they would. Tara was soft. Too easy living. And
they needed money because those scoundrels over on the coast had failed
to get in enough whisky for their trade. The girl had almost spoiled
their plans by going away with Tara. And he--Mac--was a devil of a good
fellow for bringing her back! They'd pull off the fight to-morrow. If
the girl--that little bird-devil that belonged to him--didn't like
it....

He brought the canteen down with a bang, and shoved one of the cups
across to David.

"Of course, she belongs to you," said David, encouragingly,
"but--confound you--I can't believe it, you old dog! I can't believe
it!" He leaned over and gave Brokaw a jocular slap, forcing a laugh out
of himself. "She's too pretty for you. Prettiest kid I ever saw! How did
it happen? Eh? You--_lucky_--dog!"

He was fairly trembling as he saw the red fire of satisfaction, of
gloating pleasure, deepen in Brokaw's face.

"She hasn't belonged to you very long, eh?"

"Long time, long time," replied Brokaw, pausing with his cup half way to
his mouth. "Years ago."

Suddenly he lowered the cup so forcefully that half the liquor in it was
spilled over the table. He thrust his huge shoulders and red face toward
David, and in an instant there was a snarl on his thick lips.

"Hauck said she didn't," he growled. "What do you think of that,
Mac?--said she didn't belong to me any more, an' I'd have to pay for her
keep! Gawd, I did. I gave him a lot of gold!"

"You were a fool," said David, trying to choke back his eagerness. "A
fool!"

"I should have killed him, shouldn't I, Mac--killed him an' _took_ her?"
cried Brokaw hu