hat of Poggin. Though Duane had never seen Poggin or
heard him described, he knew him. For he saw a face that was a record of
great and evil deeds.

There was absolute silence. The outlaws were lined back of a long table
upon which were papers, stacks of silver coin, a bundle of bills, and a
huge gold-mounted gun.

"Are you gents lookin' for me?" asked Duane. He gave his voice all the
ringing force and power of which he was capable. And he stepped back,
free of anything, with the outlaws all before him.

Knell stood quivering, but his face might have been a mask. The other
outlaws looked from him to Duane. Jim Fletcher flung up his hands.

"My Gawd, Dodge, what'd you bust in here fer?" he said, plaintively, and
slowly stepped forward. His action was that of a man true to himself. He
meant he had been sponsor for Duane and now he would stand by him.

"Back, Fletcher!" called Duane, and his voice made the outlaw jump.

"Hold on, Dodge, an' you-all, everybody," said Fletcher. "Let me talk,
seein' I'm in wrong here."

His persuasions did not ease the strain.

"Go ahead. Talk," said Poggin.

Fletcher turned to Duane. "Pard, I'm takin' it on myself thet you meet
enemies here when I swore you'd meet friends. It's my fault. I'll stand
by you if you let me."

"No, Jim," replied Duane.

"But what'd you come fer without the signal?" burst out Fletcher, in
distress. He saw nothing but catastrophe in this meeting.

"Jim, I ain't pressin' my company none. But when I'm wanted bad--"

Fletcher stopped him with a raised hand. Then he turned to Poggin with a
rude dignity.

"Poggy, he's my pard, an' he's riled. I never told him a word thet'd
make him sore. I only said Knell hadn't no more use fer him than fer
me. Now, what you say goes in this gang. I never failed you in my life.
Here's my pard. I vouch fer him. Will you stand fer me? There's goin' to
be hell if you don't. An' us with a big job on hand!"

While Fletcher toiled over his slow, earnest persuasion Duane had his
gaze riveted upon Poggin. There was something leonine about Poggin. He
was tawny. He blazed. He seemed beautiful as fire was beautiful. But
looked at closer, with glance seeing the physical man, instead of that
thing which shone from him, he was of perfect build, with muscles that
swelled and rippled, bulging his clothes, with the magnificent head and
face of the cruel, fierce, tawny-eyed jaguar.

Looking at this strange Poggin, instinctively divinin