ain in his fury that he knew all about his underhanded work, he
called him more than one hard name, made no secret of his deadly
enmity, and challenged him to end their differences then and there.

De Spain did not move. His left hand again lay on the cigar case.
"Duke," he said, when his antagonist had exhausted his vituperation,
"I wouldn't fight you, anyway. You're crazy angry at me for no reason
on earth. If you'll give me just one good reason for feeling the way
you do toward me, and the way you've always acted toward me since I
came up to this country, I'll fight you."

"Pull your gun," cried Morgan with an imprecation.

"I won't do it. You call me a coward. Ask these boys here in the shop
whether they agree with you on that. You might as well call me an
isosceles triangle. You're just crazy sore at me when I want to be
friends with you. Instead of pulling my gun, Duke, I'll lay it out on
the case, here, to show you that all I ask of you is to talk reason."
De Spain, reaching with his left hand under the lapel of his coat,
took a Colt's revolver from its breast harness and laid it, the muzzle
toward himself, on the plate-glass top of the cigar stand. It reduced
him to the necessity of a spring into Morgan for the smallest chance
for his life if Morgan should draw; but de Spain was a desperate
gambler in such matters even at twenty-eight, and he laid his wagers
on what he could read in another's eye.

"There's more reasons than one why I shouldn't fight you," he said
evenly. "Duke, you're old enough to be my father--do you realize
that? What's the good of our shooting each other up?" he asked,
ignoring Morgan's furious interruptions. "Who's to look after Nan when
you go--as you must, before very many years? Have you ever asked
yourself that? Do you want to leave her to that pack of wolves in the
Gap? You know, just as well as I do, the Gap is no place for a
high-bred, fine-grained girl like Nan Morgan. But the Gap is your
home, and you've done right to keep her under your roof and under your
eye. Do you think _I'd_ like to pull a trigger on a man that's been a
father to Nan? Damnation, Duke, could you expect me to do it,
willingly? Nan is a queen. The best in the world isn't good enough for
her--I'm not good enough, I know that. She's dear to you, she is dear
to me. If you really want to see me try to use a gun, send me a man
that will insult or abuse her. If you want to use your own gun, use it
on me if I ever