gh. The speaker
whirled, took one step forward; there was the flash of an extended arm,
a dull crunch, and Red Slavin went crashing backward against the wall.
As he gazed up, dazed and bewildered, from the floor, the lights
glimmered along a blue-steel barrel.

"Not a move, you red brute," and Hampton spurned him contemptuously
with his heel. "This is no variety show, and your laughter was in poor
taste. However, if you feel particularly hilarious to-night I 'll give
you another chance. I said this was my last game; I'll repeat
it--_this was my last game_! Now, damn you! if you feel like it,
laugh!"

He swept the circle of excited faces, his eyes glowing like two
diamonds, his thin lips compressed into a single straight line.

"Mr. Slavin appears to have lost his previous sense of humor," he
remarked, calmly. "I will now make my statement for the third
time--_this was my last game_. Perhaps some of you gentlemen also may
discover this to be amusing."

[Illustration: "Mr. Slavin appears to have lost his previous sense of
humor," he remarked, calmly.]

The heavy, strained breathing of the motionless crowd was his only
answer, and a half smile of bitter contempt curled Hampton's lips, as
he swept over them a last defiant glance.

"Not quite so humorous as it seemed to be at first, I reckon," he
commented, dryly. "Slavin," and he prodded the red giant once more
with his foot, "I'm going out; if you make any attempt to leave this
room within the next five minutes I 'll kill you in your tracks, as I
would a mad dog. You stacked cards twice to-night, but the last time I
beat you fairly at your own game."

He held aside the heavy curtains with his left hand and backed slowly
out facing them, the deadly revolver shining ominously in the other.
Not a man moved: Slavin glowered at him from the floor, an impotent
curse upon his lips. Then the red drapery fell.

While the shadows of the long night still hung over the valley, Naida,
tossing restlessly upon her strange bed within the humble yellow house
at the fork of the trails, was aroused to wakefulness by the pounding
of a horse's hoofs on the plank bridge spanning the creek. She drew
aside the curtain and looked out, shading her eyes to see clearer
through the poor glass. All she perceived was a somewhat deeper smudge
when the rider swept rapidly past, horse and man a shapeless shadow.
Three hours later she awoke again, this time to the full glare of day,
a