and glanced toward Mose. The woman bowed and drove on, and Mose
walked slowly up the street, lonely and irresolute. At the door of a
gambling house he halted and looked in. A young lad and an old man were
seated together at a roulette table, and around them a ring of excited
and amused spectators stood. Mose entered and took a place in the
circle. The boy wore a look of excitement quite painful to see, and he
placed his red and white chips with nervous, blundering, and ineffectual
gestures, whereas the older man smiled benignly over his glasses and
placed his single dollar chip each time with humorous decision. Each
time he won. "This is for a new hat," he said, and the next time, "This
is for a box at the theater." The boy, with his gains in the circle of
his left arm, was desperately absorbed. No smile, no jest was possible
to him.

Mose felt a hand on his shoulder, and turning, found himself face to
face with the small man who had touched his hat to the woman in the
carriage. The stranger's countenance was stern in its outlines, and his
military cut of beard added to his grimness, but his eyes were
surrounded by fine lines of good humour.

"Stranger, I'd like a word with you."

Mose followed him to a corner, supposing him to be a man with mines to
sell, or possibly a confidence man.

"Stranger, where you from?"

"From the Snake country," replied Mose.

"What's your little game here?"

Mose was angered at his tone. "None of your business."

The older man flushed, and the laugh went out of his eyes. "I'll make it
my business," he said grimly. "I've seen you somewhere before, but I
can't place you. You want to get out o' town to-night; you're here for
no man's good--you've got a 'graft.'"

Mose struck him with the flat of his left hand, and, swift as a
rattlesnake's stroke, covered him with his revolver. "Wait right where
you are," he said, and the man became rigid. "I came here as peaceable
as any man," Mose went on, "but I don't intend to be ridden out of town
by a jackass like you."

The other man remained calm. "If you'll kindly let me unbutton my coat,
I'll show you my star; I'm the city marshal."

"Be quiet," commanded Mose; "put up your hands!"

Mose was aware of an outcry, then a silence, then a rush.

From beneath his coat, quick as a flash of light from a mirror, he drew
a second revolver. His eyes flashed around the room. For a moment all
was silent, then a voice called, "What's all this, Han