to let him kill me."

"Ask him to go back to the ranch, dearie, to go back at once for your
sake," the woman said to the child, nervously. "Just this once, Ken,"
she pleaded. "You are so young--and life certainly holds so much for
you!" But the child here interposed tearfully: "Ten shan't do home! Ten
tate me widin' to-mov-ver."

"That's what, honey!" said Douglass, with quieting assurance. "Out of
the mouth of babes--" he quoted whimsically and the woman turned away
with a sigh. But all that night a light burned in her room and when
little Eulalie said her prayers she knelt beside her with dumbly moving
lips. She had known so much misery and heartache in this dreadful
place--and this young man had once told her that his mother was dead.
Strangely enough, she did not include Matlock in her appeal. Which was
manifestly unfair and essentially feminine.

Hank Williams, dropping casually into the Alcazar that night, noted with
no small satisfaction that Douglass occupied that seat at the poker
table which commanded the whole room with the minimum of exposure in his
own rear. "Trust him for that!" he chuckled, but his nod of greeting was
anything but demonstrative. All the same he unobtrusively sat down at a
point where he could see in profile every man in the room and likewise
catch the first view of all who entered at either rear or front doors.
Matlock was not in the room, but leaning against the counter of the bar
were three of the C Bar outfit talking earnestly together. At the other
end of the counter Blount was lighting an unusually refractory pipe
which persisted in going out at every third puff. Williams, noting a
sharp projection in the side pocket of Blount's coat, smiled
quizzically.

"Derringer," he speculated. "Well, there ain't no accountin' for tastes.
An' I've heard that Blount got two men in one scrap down in No Man's
Land afore he come here. Guess Ken's good for a square deal all right.
But I don't like Matlock's dodging the play in this way. Wonder what
skunk trick he will try this time?"

Nearly every other man in the room was indulging in a like speculation.
The only possible exceptions were the C Bar men at the counter and a
slight, well-dressed young fellow who was watching the faro game at the
other side of the room. The latter was evidently a stranger both to Tin
Cup and to the game in which he was so thoroughly absorbed. Williams
looked him over indifferently.

"Tenderfoot," he opined, "taki