ed, seizing the heavier man by the collar.
"It isn't worth while to kill a man for a handful of rupees. Let go,
you fool!"

He used his strength. The man and his victim swung in a half-circle
and crashed to the floor.

With a snarl and an oath, the gambler sprung to his feet and started
toward Warrington. He stopped short.

"Good God!" he murmured; and retreated until he touched the foot-board
of the bed.

VI

IN THE NEXT ROOM

"Craig?" Warrington whispered the word, as if he feared the world
might hear the deadly menace in his voice. For murder leaped up in his
heart as flame leaps up in pine-kindling.

The weak young man got to his knees, then to his feet. He steadied
himself by clutching the back of a chair. With one hand he felt of his
throat tenderly.

"He tried to kill me, the blackguard!" he croaked.

"Craig, it _is_ you! For ten years I've never thought of you without
murder in my heart. Newell Craig, and here, right where I can put my
hands upon you! Oh, this old world is small." Warrington laughed. It
was a high thin sound.

The young man looked from his enemy to his deliverer, and back again.
What new row was this? Never before had he seen the blackguard with
that look in his dark, handsome, predatory face. It typified fear.
And who was this big blond chap whose fingers were working so
convulsively?

"Craig," said the young man, "you get out of here, and if you ever come
bothering me, I'll shoot you. Hear me?"

This direful threat did not seem to stir the sense of hearing in either
of the two men. The one faced the other as a lion might have faced a
jackal, wondering if it would be worth while to waste a cuff on so
sorry a beast. Suddenly the blond man caught the door and swung it
wide.

"Craig, a week ago I'd have throttled you without the least
compunction. To-day I can't touch you. But get out of here as fast as
you can. You might have gone feet foremost. Go! Out of Rangoon, too.
I may change my mind."

The man called Craig walked out, squaring his shoulders with a touch of
bravado that did not impress even the plucked pigeon. Warrington stood
listening until he heard the hall-door close sharply.

"Thanks," said the bewildered youth.

Warrington whirled upon him savagely. "Thanks? Don't thank me,
you weak-kneed fool!"

"Oh, I say, now!" the other protested.

"Be silent! If you owe that scoundrel anything, refuse to pay it. He
never won a penny