his weapon blindly.

"You 're makin' a devil of a fuss over little or nuthin'," he growled,
simulating a tone of disgust. "I never ain't hed no quarrel with ye,
exceptin' fer the way ye managed ter skin me at the table bout two
years ago. I don't give two screeches in hell for who you are; an'
besides, I reckon you ain't the only ex-convict a-ranging Dakota either
fer the matter o' that. No more does Murphy. We ain't no bloomin'
detectives, an' we ain't buckin' in on no business o' yourn; ye kin
just bet your sweet life on thet."

"Where is Murphy, then? I wish to see the fellow."

"I told you he'd gone. Maybe he didn't git away till this mornin', but
he's gone now all right. What in thunder do ye want o' him? I reckon
I kin tell ye all thet Murphy knows."

For a breathless moment neither spoke, Hampton fingering his gun
nervously, his eyes lingering on that brutal face.

"Slavin," he said at last, his voice hard, metallic, "I 've figured it
out, and I do know you now, you lying brute. You are the fellow who
swore you saw me throw away the gun that did the shooting, and that
afterwards you picked it up."

There was the spirit of murder in his eyes, and the gambler cowered
back before them, trembling like a child.

"I--I only swore to the last part, Captain," he muttered, his voice
scarcely audible. "I--I never said I saw you throw---"

"And I swore," went on Hampton, "that I would kill you on sight. You
lying whelp, are you ready to die?"

Slavin's face was drawn and gray, the perspiration standing in beads
upon his forehead, but he could neither speak nor think, fascinated by
those remorseless eyes, which seemed to burn their way down into his
very soul.

"No? Well, then, I will give you, to-day, just one chance to
live--one, you dog--one. Don't move an eyelash! Tell me honestly why
you have been trying to get word with the girl, and you shall go out
from here living. Lie to me about it, and I am going to kill you where
you sit, as I would a mad dog. You know me, Slavin--now speak!"

So intensely still was it, Hampton could distinguish the faint ticking
of the watch in his pocket, the hiss of the breath between the giant's
clinched teeth. Twice the fellow tried to utter something, his lips
shaking as with the palsy, his ashen face the picture of terror. No
wretch dragged shrieking to the scaffold could have formed a more
pitiful sight, but there was no mercy in the eyes of the man watchi