est when I booted you down, an' we'd of had you at that if them
damned eediots hadn't begun bouncin' bottles an' glasses an' spittoons
offen our head. Shoot--an' for Christ's sake, make a job of it!"

The Texan's grin broadened, and reaching down he rolled the bartender
over, "Get up Ike," he said. "You're a he-one, all right, an' it would
be a pity to waste you."

The other struggled to his feet and as he faced him the Texan saw an
answering grin widen the mouth beneath the heavy moustache. "Pour us a
couple of drinks out of that private stock, an' in the meantime I'll
just fog her up a bit as a warnin' to the curious not to intrude on our
solitude. An', say, watch this, so you can tell 'em out there I can
shoot." Four stacks of chips remained on the table where the players of
solo had abandoned their game, and shooting alternately with either
hand, and so rapidly that the explosions sounded like shots from an
automatic, the Texan cleaned the table and filled the air with a
blue-grey haze and a shower of broken chips. Suddenly he glanced at the
clock. Its hands pointed to half-past four, and with an oath he sent two
bullets crashing into its face. "Four-thirty!" he cried. "A year ago
this minute--" He stopped abruptly.

Ike nodded approval and raised his glass: "Now," he pronounced,
solemnly, "I've got to own that they ain't none of us in Timber City
that's as handy with guns as what you be--but, at that, most of us kin
hit a man reasonable often--an' some of us has."

"I'll give you a chance to do it again, then. But, first, you slip down
cellar there an' h'ist me up a bunch of beer kegs. I'm goin' to build me
a barricade so you birds can't rake the back bar through the window." As
Ike passed up the kegs, the Texan arranged them in such a manner that
from neither windows nor door could anyone upon the outside cover the
space behind the bar, and when Ike came up into the room he shook his
head, gloomily: "What's the big idee," he asked, "of startin' a war over
a dollar an' four bits? It ain't too late yet fer to leave yer guns in
here an' plead guilty to disturbin' the peace. That won't cost you
much--but this way, how in hell do you expect to play a lone hand agin a
whole town an' git away with it? You're either plumb crazy or drunk or
there's somethin' settin' heavy on yer mind----"

"I want my change," insisted the Texan stubbornly, "an' I'm goin' to
take it out in trade, an' also them fines--there's twenty or t