of her and swung round as Pete stepped
up. "What's the idee, Malvey?"

"You don't draw no cards in this deal," snarled Malvey.

"Then we shuffle and cut for a new deal," said Pete.

Malvey's loose mouth hardened as he backed toward the corner of the
room, where Boca cringed, her hands covering her face. Suddenly the
girl sprang up and caught Malvey's arm, "No! No!" she cried.

He flung her aside and reached for his gun--but Pete was too quick for
him. They crashed down and rolled across the room. Pete wriggled free
and rose. In a flash he realized that he was no match for Malvey's
brute strength. He had no desire to kill Malvey--but he did not intend
that Malvey should kill him. Pete jerked his gun loose as Malvey
staggered to his feet, but Pete dared not shoot on account of Boca. He
saw Malvey's hand touch the butt of his gun--when something crashed
down from behind. Pete dimly remembered Boca's white face--and the
room went black.

Malvey strode forward.

Old Flores dropped the neck of the shattered bottle and stood gazing
down at Pete. "The good wine is gone. I break the bottle," said
Flores, grinning.

"To hell with the wine! Let's pack this young tin-horn out where he
won't be in the way."

But as Malvey stooped, Boca flung herself in front of him. "Pig!" she
flamed. She turned furiously on her father, whose vacuous grin faded
as she cursed him shrilly for a coward.

Listless and heavy-eyed came Boca's mother. Without the slightest
trace of emotion she examined Pete's wound, fetched water and washed
it, binding it up with a handkerchief. Quite as listlessly she spoke
to her husband, telling him to leave the wine and go to bed.

Flores mumbled a protest. Malvey asked him if he let the women run the
place. Boca's mother turned to Malvey. "You will go," she said
quietly. Malvey cursed as he stepped from the room. He could face
Boca's fury, or face any man in a quarrel, but there was something in
the deathlike quietness of the sad-eyed Mexican woman that chilled his
blood. He did not know what would happen if he refused to go--yet he
knew that something would happen. It was not the first time that
Flores's wife had interfered in quarrels of the border outlaws
sojourning at the ranch. In Showdown men said that she would as soon
knife a man as not. Malvey, who had lived much in Old Mexico, had seen
women use the knife.

He went without a word. Boca heard him speak sharply to his h