chimney, said:--

"D--d if I like this, Chivers! It's your affair; but it's mighty
low-down work for a man!"

"You might have made it easier if you hadn't knocked up Bryce's gun.
That would have settled it, though no one guessed that the cur was her
husband," said Chivers hotly.

"If you want it settled THAT WAY, there's still time," returned the
other with a slight sneer. "You've only to tell him that you're the
man that ran away with his wife, and you'll have it out together, right
on the ledge at twelve paces. The boys will see you through. In
fact," he added, his sneer deepening, "I rather think it's what they're
expecting."

"Thank you, Mr. Jack Riggs," said Chivers sardonically. "I dare say it
would be more convenient to some people, just before our booty is
divided, if I were drilled through by a blundering shot from that
hayseed; or it would seem right to your high-toned chivalry if a
dead-shot as I am knocked over a man who may have never fired a
revolver before; but I don't exactly see it in that light, either as a
man or as your equal partner. I don't think you quite understand me,
my dear Jack. If you don't value the only man who is identified in all
California as the leader of this gang (the man whose style and address
has made it popular--yes, POPULAR, by G--d!--to every man, woman, and
child who has heard of him; whose sayings and doings are quoted by the
newspapers; whom people run risks to see; who has got the sympathy of
the crowd, so that judges hesitate to issue warrants and constables to
serve them),--if YOU don't see the use of such a man, I do. Why,
there's a column and a half in the 'Sacramento Union' about our last
job, calling me the 'Claude Duval' of the Sierras, and speaking of my
courtesy to a lady! A LADY!--HIS wife, by G--d! our confederate! My
dear Jack, you not only don't know business values, but, 'pon my soul,
you don't seem to understand humor! Ha, ha!"

For all his cynical levity, for all his affected exaggeration, there
was the ring of an unmistakable and even pitiable vanity in his voice,
and a self-consciousness that suffused his broad cheeks and writhed his
full mouth, but seemed to deepen the frown on Riggs's face.

"You know the woman hates it, and would bolt if she could,--even from
you," said Riggs gloomily. "Think what she might do if she knew her
husband were here. I tell you she holds our lives in the hollow of her
hand."

"That's your fault, Mr. Jack