to continue.

"I'm going to roll my blankets and leave The Corner and everything I
have in it. You'll get my share of most things, it seems." He smiled
after a ghastly, mirthless fashion. "I give you a free road. I surrender
everything to you, Donnegan. But there are two things I want to warn you
about. It may be that my men will not agree with me. It may be that
they'll want to put up a fight for the mine. They can't get at it
without getting at Macon. They can't get at him without removing you.
And they'll probably try it. I warn you now.

"Another thing: from this moment there's no blood tie between us. I've
found a brother and lost him in the same day. And if I ever cross you
again, Donnegan, I'll shoot you on sight. Remember, I'm not threatening.
I simply warn you in advance. If I were you, I'd get out of the country.
Avoid me, Donnegan, as you'd avoid the devil."

And he turned on his heel. He felt the eyes of the people in the room
follow him by jerks, dwelling on every one of his steps. Near the door,
stepping aside to avoid a group of people coming in, he half turned and
he could not avoid the sight of Donnegan and Nelly Lebrun at the other
end of the room. He was leaning across the table, talking with a smile
on his lips--at that distance he could not mark the pallor of the little
man's face--and Nelly Lebrun was laughing. Laughing already, and
oblivious of the rest of the world.

Lord Nick turned, a blur coming before his eyes, and made blindly for
the door. A body collided with him; without a word he drew back his
massive right fist and knocked the man down. The stunned body struck
against the wall and collapsed along the floor. Lord Nick felt a great
madness swell in his heart. Yet he set his teeth, controlled himself,
and went on toward the house of Lebrun. He had come within an eyelash of
running amuck, and the quivering hunger for action was still swelling
and ebbing in him when he reached the gambler's house.

Lebrun was not in the gaming house, no doubt, at this time of night--but
the rest of Nick's chosen men were there. They stood up as he entered
the room--Harry Masters, newly arrived--the Pedlar--Joe Rix--three names
famous in the mountain desert for deeds which were not altogether a
pleasant aroma in the nostrils of the law-abiding, but whose sins had
been deftly covered from legal proof by the cunning of Nick, and whose
bravery itself had half redeemed them. They rose now as three wolves
ri