flushing.

"What I said, Warden. It takes gall to do what you and your friends are
doing. But, given the power, any bunch of cheap crooks could do it. You
understand that I'm not complimenting you any."

It was apparent to Warden, as it was apparent to Jordan--who poised his
pencil over the pad of papers and did not move a muscle--that Lawler's
wrath was struggling mightily within him. It was also apparent that
Lawler's was a cold wrath, held in check by a sanity that forbade
surrender to it--a sanity that sternly governed him.

It was the icy rage that awes with its intensity; the deliberate
bringing to the verge of deadly action the nerves and muscles that yearn
for violent expression--and then holding them there, straining tensely,
awaiting further provocation.

Both men knew what impended; both saw in the steady, unwavering gleam of
Lawler's eyes the threat, the promise of violence, should they elect to
force it.

Jordan was chastened, nerveless. The pencil dropped from his fingers and
he slacked in his chair, watching Lawler with open mouth.

Warden's face had grown dead white. The hatred he bore for this man
glared forth from his eyes, but the hatred was tempered by a fear that
gripped him.

However, Warden was instinctively aware that Lawler would not force that
trouble for which he plainly yearned; that he would not use the gun that
swung from the leather at his hip unless he or Jordan provoked him to
it.

And Warden wore no gun. He felt secure, as he sat for an interval after
considering the situation, and yet he did not speak at once. Then, with
the urge of his hatred driving him, he said, sneeringly:

"Cheap crooks, eh? Well, let me tell you something, Lawler. You can't
intimidate anybody. My business is perfectly legitimate. I am not
violating any law. If I have the foresight to contract for cars in time
to get them for shipment, that is my business. And if I offer you--or
any man--a price, and it doesn't suit you, you don't have to accept it."

He saw a glint of humor in Lawler's eyes--a sign that the man's passions
were not to be permitted to break the leash in which he held them--and
he grew bolder, his voice taking on a vindictive note.

"And I want to tell you another thing, Lawler. As long as I am resident
buyer at Willets you'll never ship a hoof through me. Understand that!
You can drive to Red Rock and be damned! If you'd been halfway decent
about this thing; if you hadn't come swaggeri