hat
soon as Morgan cashed in he was hittin' the breeze for here!"

Lawson, the man who had gone to meet Laskar, ejaculated hoarsely, and
stood rigid, his mouth open, his eyes bulging. It was the involuntary
expression of the astonishment and fear that had seized him. Laskar
forgot the pain in his chest long enough to straighten and grin at
Lawson.

Rogers' face had changed color. He, too, had become rigid. He had been in
the act of reaching for the bottle on the table, and the hand that had
been extended had been suddenly drawn back, so that the hand was now
midway between his body and the bottle--and the fingers were clenched.
The other hand, under the table, was likewise clenched, and the muscles
of his jaws were corded. Into his eyes had come a furtive, restless
gleam, and his face had paled.

Deveny gave no visible sign of perturbation. He coolly reached out,
grasped the bottle that Rogers had been reaching for, and poured some of
the amber fluid into one of the glasses. The other men watched him
silently--all of them intent to note the tremor they expected to see.

Deveny's hand did not tremble. He noted the glances of the men--the
admiration that came into their eyes as with steady muscles he raised the
glass and drank--and he smiled with slight contempt.

"Coming here, eh?" he said evenly. "So he said that. Did he mention what
he was coming for?"

"He didn't mention," replied Laskar.

"So he downed Dolver. Did he say what for?"

"Said Dolver had shot up his partner, Davey Langan--back in Pardo. Harlan
was evenin' up."

"What do you know about Harlan?"

The question was addressed to all of them.

Rogers answered.

"He's a bad guy--all bad. He's an iceberg, an' he's got the snakiest
gun-hand of any man in the country. Draws hesitatin'-like. A man don't
know when he's goin' to uncork his smoke-wagons. I seen him put Lefty
Blandin' out. He starts for his guns, an' then kind of stops, trickin'
the other guy into goin' for his. Then, before the other guy can get his
gun to workin', Harlan's stickin' his away, an' the guy's ready for the
mourners.

"Harlan got his handle that way. He goes for his guns so slow an'
hesitatin' that he seems to drag 'em out. But some way he's always
shootin' first. An' they always let him off because it's mighty plain
that the other guy tried to draw first."

"I've heard that," said Deveny slowly. "What's his record?"

"Plays her a lone hand," returned Rogers. He watched