floor an instant later,
a shriek of fear mingling with the sound as he went down in a heap from a
vicious, deadening blow from Trevison's fist.

Trevison's leap upon Braman had been swift; he was back in the doorway
instantly, looking at Corrigan, his eyes ablaze with rage, wild, reckless,
bitter. He laughed--the sound of it brought a grayish pallor to Corrigan's
face.

"That explains your nerve!" he taunted. "It's a frame-up. You sent the
deputy after me--pointed me out when I went into Hanrahan's! That's how he
knew me! You knew I'd come in here to have it out with you, and you
figured to have Braman shoot me when my back was turned! Ha, ha!" He swung
his pistol on Corrigan; the big man gripped the arms of his chair and sat
rigid, staring, motionless. For an instant there was no sound. And then
Trevison laughed again.

"Bah!" he said; "I can't use your methods! You're safe so long as you
don't move." He laughed again as he looked down at the banker. Reaching
down, he grasped the inert man by the scruff of the neck and dragged him
through the door, out into the banking room, past Corrigan, who watched
him wonderingly and to the front, there he dropped him and turning,
answered the question that he saw shining in Corrigan's eyes:

"I don't work in the dark! We'll take this case out into the sunlight, so
the whole town can have a look at it!"

He stooped swiftly, grasped Braman around the middle, swung him aloft and
hurled him through the window, into the street, the glass, shattered,
clashing and jangling around him. He turned to Corrigan, laughing lowly:

"Get up. Manti will want to know. I'm going to do the talking!"

He forced Corrigan to the front door, and stood on the threshold behind
him, silent, watching.

A hundred doorways were vomiting men. The crash of glass had carried far,
and visions of a bank robbery filled many brains as their owners raced
toward the doorway where Trevison stood, the muzzle of his pistol jammed
firmly against Corrigan's back.

The crowd gathered, in the manner peculiar to such scenes, coming from all
directions and converging at one point, massing densely in front of the
bank building, surrounding the fallen banker, pushing, jostling,
straining, craning necks for better views, eager-voiced, curious.

No one touched Braman. On the contrary, there were many in the front
fringe that braced their bodies against the crush, shoving backward,
crying that a man was hurt and needed b