was not worn for
ornament. The Spider knew that the drink was a mere formality--that
the stranger was not a drinking man in the larger sense.

Neither spoke until a Mexican, quite evidently in haste, rode up and
entered the saloon. The Mexican bore the strange news that four riders
were expected to reach Showdown that day--perhaps by noon. Then The
Spider spoke, and Pete was startled by the voice, which was pitched in
a high key yet was little more than a whisper.

The Mexican began to expostulate shrilly. The Spider had cursed him
for a loud-mouthed fool. Again came that sinister whisper, like the
rush of a high wind in the reeds. The Mexican turned and silently left
the room. When Pete, who had pretended absorption in thought, glanced
up, the Spider's eyes were fixed on Pete's horse, which had swung
around as the Mexican departed. The Spider's deep-set eyes shifted to
Pete, who smiled. The Spider nodded. Interpreted this would have
read: "I see you ride a horse with the Concho brand." And Pete's eyes
had retorted: "I sure do. I was waiting for you to say that."

Still The Spider had not addressed his new guest nor had Pete uttered a
word. It was a sort of cool, deliberate duel of will power. Pete
turned his head and surveyed the long room leisurely. The Spider
pushed the bottle toward him, silently inviting him to drink again.
Pete shook his head. The Spider hobbled from behind the bar and moving
quickly across the room flung open the back door, discovering a patio
set with tables and chairs. Pete nodded.

They were establishing a tentative understanding without speech. The
test was hard for Pete. The Spider was uncanny--though quick of
movement and shifty of eye--intensely alive withal.

As for The Spider himself, he was not displeased. This was but a
youth, yet a youth who was not unfamiliar with the fine points of a
rendezvous. The back door opened on a patio and the door in the wall
of the patio opened on a corral. The corral bars opened to the
desert--Pete had almost sensed that, without seeing farther than the
patio, and had nodded his approval, without speaking. The Spider
considered this highly commendable.

Pete knew at a glance that The Spider was absolutely without
honor--that his soul was as crooked as his badly bowed legs; and that
he called no man friend and meant it.

And The Spider knew, without other evidence than his own eyes found,
that this young stranger would not he