Point, and always coming to
borrow books of Jack, but indeed he never wrote me, nor I----"

"Hush! Who but a blackguard would think it? Just sit here quietly ten
minutes or so. You shall have that letter. If any one comes, I think it
would be best to keep quiet about this until later."

With that he went hobbling down the row. There were the ladies and they
accosted him to know if anything were wrong,--if they had not better go
to Mrs. Truscott? et caetera, et caetera; but he answered with
unaccustomed brilliancy and mendacity that he had a scare for nothing
because he could not read her fine Italian hand. She was only getting
some things ready to send to Captain Truscott by the stage to Fetterman.
All the same he slipped into his room, got his revolver, gave a quiet
twirl to the cylinder to see that all was working smoothly, and the next
minute, without knocking, banged into the front room of Gleason's
quarters, finding that worthy sluicing his head and face with cold water
at the washstand.

"Who's that?" he shouted, turning half round to find Ray standing less
than ten feet away with a cocked six-shooter gleaming in his hand. There
was dead silence a moment, then Ray's placid tones were heard,--

"Sit down, Gleason."

Gleason stood glaring at him an instant, a ghastly pallor stealing over
his face, his rickety legs trembling beneath him.

"Do you hear? _Sit down!_"

And though the words were slow, deliberate, clean-cut, there was a
hissing prolongation of the one sibillant that gave the impression of
the 'scape-valve of some pent-up power that bore a ton to the square
inch. There was a blaze, a glitter, in the dark, snapping eyes; there
was a pitiless, contemptuous, murderous set to the lips and jaw; a
fearful significance in the slowly-raising pistol hand and the pointing
finger of the other. Limp as a wet rag, cowering like a lashed cur,
terrified into speechlessness, Gleason dropped into the indicated
chair.

"If you attempt to move except at my bidding I'll shoot you like a dog.
I want that letter."

"What letter?" he whimpered, in his effort to dodge.

"The letter you were blackguard enough to steal and coward enough to
threaten Mrs. Truscott with. Where is it?"

"Ray, I swear I meant no harm! It was all a--a joke. I didn't dream
she'd take it so seriously. I picked it up in her yard, and meant to
give it----"

"Shut up! Where is it?"

"I--I haven't got it now."

"You lie! Bring it out, or I'l