t
had taken a step forward and he was now not over four or five feet
distant. Into Ten Spot's eyes had come an amused, disdainful gleam;
Hollis's quiet, argumentative attitude had disarmed him. This was
exactly what Hollis had been waiting for.

Ten Spot seemed almost to have forgotten his weapon; it had sagged, the
muzzle pointing downward--the man's mind had become temporarily diverted
from his purpose. When he saw Hollis move suddenly forward he remembered
his gun and tried to swing its muzzle upward, but it was too late.
Hollis had lunged forward, his left hand closing on Ten Spot's right
wrist, his right fist reaching Ten Spot's jaw in a full, sweeping,
crashing uppercut.

The would-be killer did not have even time enough to pull the trigger of
his six-shooter. It fell from his hand and thudded dully to the floor as
his knees doubled under him and he collapsed in an inert, motionless
heap near the door.

With a grim smile on his face Hollis picked up Ten Spot's weapon and
placed it on the desk. For an instant he stood at the window, looking
out into the street. Down near the Fashion he saw some men--Yuma Ed
among them. No doubt they were waiting the sound of the pistol shot
which would tell them that Ten Spot had disposed of Hollis. Hollis
grinned widely--Yuma and his gang were due for a surprise. For perhaps a
minute Hollis stood beside the desk, watching Ten Spot. Then when the
latter's hands began to twitch and a trace of color appeared in his
face, Hollis pulled out his own revolver and approached him, standing
within a few feet of him and looking down at him.

There was no mark on Ten Spot's jaw to show where Hollis's blow had
landed, for his fist had struck flush on the point, its force directed
upward. Ten Spot's mouth had been open at the instant and the snapping
of his teeth from the impact of the blow no doubt had much to do with
his long period of unconsciousness.

He stirred presently and then with an effort sat up and looked at his
conqueror with a glance of puzzled wonderment. Seeing Hollis's weapon
and his own on the desk, the light of past events seemed to filter into
his bewildered brain. He grinned owlishly, felt of his jaw and then
bowed his head, a flush of shame overspreading his face.

"Herd-rode!" he said dismally. "Herd-rode, an' by a tenderfoot! Oh,
Lordy!" He suddenly looked up at Hollis, his eyes flashing with rage and
defiance.

"Damn your hide, why don't you shoot?" he demanded