e had been whetted with
the prospect of a death, and perhaps more than one, in the meeting of
men whose supremacy with the gun had never been successfully disputed.
It required all the diplomacy of Lefever to "pull off" a conference
between the two which should not from the start be hopeless, because
of a crowd of Duke's partisans whose presence would egg him on, in
spite of everything, to a combat. But toward eleven o'clock in the
morning, de Spain having been concealed like a circus performer every
minute earlier, Duke Morgan was found, alone, in a barber's hands in
the Mountain House. At the moment Duke left the revolving-chair and
walked to the cigar stand to pay his check, de Spain entered the shop
through the rear door opening from the hotel office.

Passing with an easy step the row of barbers lined up in waiting
beside their chairs, de Spain walked straight down the open aisle,
behind Morgan's back. While Duke bent over the case to select a cigar,
de Spain, passing, placed himself at the mountain-man's side and
between him and the street sunshine. It was taking an advantage, de
Spain was well aware, but under the circumstances he thought himself
entitled to a good light on Duke's eye.

De Spain wore an ordinary sack street suit, with no sign of a weapon
about him; but none of those who considered themselves favored
spectators of a long-awaited encounter felt any doubt as to his
ability to put his hand on one at incomparably short notice. There
was, however, no trace of hostility or suspicion in de Spain's
greeting.

"Hello, Duke Morgan," he said frankly. Morgan looked around. His face
hardened when he saw de Spain, and he involuntarily took a short step
backward. De Spain, with his left hand lying carelessly on the cigar
case, faced him. "I heard you wanted to see me," continued de Spain.
"I want to see you. How's your back since you went home?"

Morgan eyed him with a mixture of suspicion and animosity. He took
what was to him the most significant part of de Spain's greeting first
and threw his response into words as short as words could be chopped:
"What do you want to see me about?"

"Nothing unpleasant, I hope," returned de Spain. "Let's sit down a
minute."

"Say what you got to say."

"Well, don't take my head off, Duke. I was sorry to hear you were
hurt. And I've been trying to figure out how to make it easier for you
to get to and from town while you are getting strong. Jeffries and I
both feel