And
that one second might make all the difference in the outcome of the
affair. Moreover, there was one other point in Harboro's favor, Fectnor
realized. His was the stronger determination of the two. Fectnor had not
flinched, but he knew that his heart was not in this fight. He could see
that Harboro was a good deal of a man. A fool, perhaps, but still a decent
fellow.

These were conclusions which had come in flashes, while Fectnor took less
than half a dozen steps. Then he turned his head partly, and flung back
almost amiably: "Wait until I get rid of my coat!"

"Drop it!" cried Harboro sharply.

But Fectnor plainly had another idea. He turned a little out of his
course, still with his hands well in front of him. It was evident, then,
that he meant to fling his coat on the sidewalk.

Harboro held him with eyes which were keen as knives, yet still a little
dubious. He was puzzled by the man's good humor; he was watchful for
sudden stratagems. His own hands were at his sides, the right within a few
inches of his hip.

Yet, after all, he was unprepared for what happened. Fectnor leaned
forward as if to deposit his coat on the sidewalk. Then he seemed to
stumble, and in two swift leaps he had gained the inner side of the walk
and had darted into the inset of the saloon. He was out of sight in a
flash.

As if by some feat in legerdemain Harboro's weapon was in his hand; but it
was a hand that trembled slightly. He had allowed Fectnor to gain an
advantage.

He stared fixedly at that place where Fectnor had disappeared. His right
hand was held in the position of a runner's, and the burnished steel of
the weapon in it caught the light of the sun. He had acquired the trick of
firing while his weapon was being elevated--not as he lowered it; with a
movement like the pointing of a finger. He was ready for Fectnor, who
would doubtless try to take him by surprise.

Then he realized that the level rays of the sun made the whole entrance to
the saloon, with its several facets of glass, a thing of dazzling
opaqueness. He could not see Fectnor until the latter stepped forth from
his ambush; yet it seemed probable that Fectnor might be able to see him
easily enough through the glass barricade behind which he had taken
refuge. He might expect to hear the report of a weapon and the crash of
glass at any instant.

At this realization he had an ugly sensation at the roots of his hair--as
if his scalp had gone to sleep. Yet he