t from lip to
lip like a watchword passing along a line of sentinels. Each man heard
it imperturbably, completed the sentence he was speaking before, or
maintained his original silence through a pause, and then repeated it to
his right-hand neighbour. Their demeanour did not alter perceptibly,
except that the laughter, perhaps, became a little more uproarious, and
they were sitting straighter in their chairs, their eyes brighter.

All they knew was that Drew had impressed on them that Bard must not
leave that room in command of his six-shooter or even of his hands. He
must be bound securely. The working out of the details of execution he
had left to their own ingenuity. It might have seemed a little thing to
do to greener fellows, but every one of these men was an experienced
cowpuncher, and like all old hands on the range they were perfectly
familiar with the amount of damage which a single armed man can do.

The thing could be done, of course, but the point was to do it with the
minimum of danger. So they waited, and talked, and ate and always from
the corners of their eyes were conscious of the slightly built,
inoffensive man who sat beside Lawlor near the head of the table. In
appearance he was surely most innocuous, but Nash had spoken, and in
such matters they were all willing to take his word with a childlike
faith.

So the meal went on, and the only sign, to the most experienced eye, was
that the chairs were placed a little far back from the edge of the
table, a most necessary condition when men may have to rise rapidly or
get at their holsters for a quick draw.

Calamity Ben bearing a mighty dish of bread pudding, passed directly
behind the chair of the stranger. The whole table watched with a sudden
keenness, and they saw Bard turn, ever so slightly, just as Calamity
passed behind the chair.

"I say," he said, "may I have a bit of hot water to put in this coffee?"

"Sure," said Calamity, and went on, but the whole table knew that the
stranger was on his guard.

The mutual suspicion gave a tenseness to the atmosphere, as if it were
charged with the electricity of a coming storm, a tingling waiting which
made the men prone to become silent and then talk again in fitful
outbursts. Or it might be said that it was like a glass full of
precipitate which only waits for the injection of a single unusual
substance before it settles to the bottom and leaves the remaining
liquid clear. It was for the unusual, the