"Well, 'Ole Man,' I'm likely to rob yuh of a lot more ef you ain't
keerful," answered McKee.

"Yuh can't jet yeta while," said Terrill. "Dead broke."

"Aw, come off! everybody knows ye're a walkin' bank. Bet yuh got three
thousan' in that inside pocket o' your'n this minute."

Terrill started at McKee's naming the exact amount he was carrying. He
forgot his customary caution in his surprise. "Well, you did just hit
it, shore enough. I believe ye're half-gipsy instid o' half-Injun.
Jus' like yer knowin' I stood pat on four uv a kind when you had aces
full, and throwin' down yer cyards 'fore I c'u'd git even with yuh.
How do yuh do it, Buck?"

McKee gave a smile of cunning, inscrutable superiority. "Oh, it's jes'
a power I has. 'Keen sabby,' as the Greasers say--I'm keen on the
know-how. Why, I kin tell yuh more about the money. It's fer Jack
Payson--"

"Now, there's whur ye're way off as a cleervoyant, Buck," said Terrill
triumphantly. "Yuh guessed oncet too often, as yer old pard on the
Lazy K said to the druggist. 'Peruna?' ast the druggist. 'Yep,' said
yer pard. 'Beginnin' mild on a new jag?' ast the druggist a second
time. 'Hell, no!' said yer pard they calls Peruna now from the
in-sih-dent, 'ending up strong on an old one.' Nope, the three
thousan' is county money, consigned to Sheriff Hoover. Jack Payson has
jes' lef' with a package from K. C., but it wasn't money. It was a
purty, gilt chair--a weddin'-present fer the gal he's go'n' to marry."

At that moment the sounder of the telegraph began clicking the call of
the station. Terrill whirled about in his swivel-chair and faced the
table.

McKee stood close behind him. His lips twitched nervously. His eyes
narrowed as he watched every movement of the agent's big shoulders as
he operated the key. At the same time the half-breed drew his revolver
and covered the back of Terrill's head.

The agent completed his message and turned to continue his interrupted
conversation. He found himself gazing into the muzzle of a .44, big,
it seemed, as a thirteen-inch gun. "Why--what?" he stammered.

"I'm actin' jes' now as Slim's deppity," said McKee. "Unbutton an'
han' that money over."

Once having his victim in his power, all the innate cruelty of the
Indian blood of his maternal ancestors flashed to the surface. Terrill
was at his mercy. For one desperate moment he would play with him;
even torture him as his forefathers had once made miser