rotary motion so that each one was merely a speck of winking
light. He flung them high, for it was probable that Whistling Dan
would wait to shoot until they were on the way down. The higher he
threw them the more rapidly they would be travelling when they crossed
the level of the markman's eye.

As a shout proclaimed the throwing of the coins, Dan whirled, and it
seemed to the bystanders that a revolver exploded before he was fully
turned; but one of the coins never rose to the height of the throw.
There was a light "cling!" and it spun a dozen yards away. Two more
shots blended almost together; two more dollars darted away in
twinkling streaks of light. One coin still fell, but when it was a
few inches from the earth a six-shooter barked again and the fourth
dollar glanced sidewise into the dust. It takes long to describe the
feat. Actually, the four shots consumed less than a second of time.

"That last dollar," said Dan, and his soft voice was the first sound
out of the silence, "wasn't good. It didn't ring true. Counterfeit?"

It seemed that no one heard his words. The men were making a wild
scramble for the dollars. They dived into the dust for them, rising
white of face and clothes to fight and struggle over their prizes.
Those dollars with the chips and neat round holes in them would
confirm the truth of a story that the most credulous might be tempted
to laugh or scorn. A cowpuncher offered ten dollars for one of the
relics--but none would part with a prize.

The moment the shooting was over Dan stepped quietly back and restored
the guns to the owners. The first man seized his weapon carelessly. He
was in the midst of his rush after one of the chipped coins. The other
cowpuncher received his weapon almost with reverence.

"I'm thankin' you for the loan," said Dan, "an here's hopin' you
always have luck with the gun."

"Luck?" said the other. "I sure _will_ have luck with it. I'm goin'
to oil her up and put her in a glass case back home, an' when I get
grandchildren I'm goin' to point out that gun to 'em and tell 'em what
men used to do in the old days. Let's go in an' surround some red-eye
at my expense."

"No thanks," answered Dan, "I ain't drinkin'."

He stepped back to the edge of the circle and folded his arms. It was
as if he had walked out of the picture. He suddenly seemed to be aloof
from them all.

Out of the quiet burst a torrent of curses, exclamations, and shouts.
Chance drew Jim Silent a