," snapped the gambler.

"Get it out in your hand, then, before, you talk to me any more in that
fashion."

"He won't," mocked Tom. "He doesn't dare, Bodson. Your hands are not
tied."

"Cut it out, Rafe! Quit it!" ordered one of the other men in the crowd.
"We won't let this tenderfoot split our ranks. You're one of us, and
you'll stand by us."

"Not if there's going to be any more hitting of tied men," retorted
Bodson sulkily. "There's a limit to what a man can stand."

"Thank you, my friend," broke in Tom Reade mildly. "But don't go to any
trouble on our account. There are few if any others in this crowd who
can understand the meaning of fair play--the gambler least of all."

"I'll take that out of you, Reade!" blazed Jim Duff. "I'll--"

"You'll do nothing while the kid's hands are tied," objected Bodson,
stepping between the pair. "Act fair and square, Jim, as a man should
act."

"That's the argument, Rafe," remarked another man, also stepping
forward.

"Bully for you, Jeff Moore," replied Rafe. "Now, remember, friends,
we're not calling for anything except that Jim Duff live up to the
program he just published for himself--the square deal."

Several murmurs of protest came from the other raiders.

"I reckon, Rafe, you and Jeff had better step back and let the rest of
us handle this thing," advised one of the party. "The pair of you are
too chicken-livered for us."

"It's a lie, as anyone in Paloma knows," Rafe retorted coolly. "No--put
up your shooters," as the hands of five or six men slid to their belts.
"There's no need of bad blood between us. All I ask is for Jim Duff to
step back out of this."

"Am I the leader here or am I not?" demanded Duff boldly. "Wasn't it my
interests that were first assailed by these fresh tenderfeet! Didn't you
gentlemen come out to-night, to help me attend to my affair? Didn't
you turn also to avenge the blow that has been dealt these cubs to poor
George Ashby's prosperity?"

At hearing himself so sympathetically referred to, Ashby threw himself
forward, a short, double-barreled shotgun in his hands.

"Yes, you, get back, you white-livered cowards!" commanded Ashby
hoarsely. "You let Duff and myself and the rest of us here handle these
young hounds as they deserve to be treated. You, Rafe and Jeff, get out
of this. You've no business here. You belong to the enemies of business
interests in Paloma. The rest of us will settle with these business
destroyers."

Ashb