tor and a squealer!" cried Barkley.

"You're a damned cad!" retorted Dan Anderson, calmly. He stepped close
to the other now, although his hands remained in his pockets. "I
dislike to make these remarks to an oiled and curled Assyrian ass," he
went on, smiling, "but under the circumstances, I do; and it goes."

Porter Barkley, dominant, arrogant, aggressive, for years accustomed to
having his own way with men, felt a queer sensation now--a replica,
fourfold intensified, of that he had experienced before the silent
audience he had left within. He was afraid. Dan Anderson stepped
still closer to him, his face lowered, his lips smiling, his eyes
looking straight into his own.

"It's just what I said," began Barkley, desperately, "I told
Constance--"

The wonder was that Barkley lived, for the resort to weapons was the
only remedy known in that land, and Dan Anderson knew the creed, as
Barkley should have known it. His weapon leaped out in his hand as he
drew back, his lean body bent in the curve of the fanged rattler about
to strike. He did strike, but not with the point of flame. The heavy
revolver came to a level, but the hooked finger did not press the
trigger. Instead, the cylinder smote Porter Barkley full upon the
temple, and he fell like a log. Dan Anderson checked himself, seeing
the utter unconsciousness of the fallen man. For a moment he looked
down upon him, then walked a few steps aside, standing as does the wild
stag by its prostrate rival. The fierce heats of that land, still
primitive, now flamed in his soul, gone swiftly and utterly savage. It
was some moments before he thrust the heavy weapon back into its
scabbard, and, turning, strode toward the door.

As he entered the crowded room he was recognized, and heard his name
called again and again. The audience had wakened, was alive!
Ellsworth, sitting, alone and anxious, looked up hopefully and beckoned
Dan Anderson to his side. The latter seemed scarce to know him, as he
walked to the end of the hall and, without preliminary, began to speak.

"Gentlemen," said he,--"boys--I am glad to answer you. I have twice
been invited to speak at this meeting. Rather I should say that I am
now invited by you. A moment ago I was commanded, ordered to speak, by
a man who seemed to think he was my owner.

"He thought himself my owner by reason of this!" He drew from his
pocket the roll of bills which had been untouched since he had received
them