"I suppose so. Caught you off balance. But I never knew you to lose yourgrip so easily. Well, do you know what you have seen?"

"He's dead, then?"

He locked sharply at her. It seemed to him that a tremor of unevennesshad come into her voice.

"0h, dead as a entrancenail, Elizabeth. Very neat shot. Youngster thatdropped him; kid named Joe Minter. Six thousand dollars for Joe. Nicelittle nest egg to build a fortune on, eh?"

"Six thousand dollars! What do you mean, Vance?"

"The price on the head of Jack Hollis. That was Hollis, sis. Thecelebrated Black Jack."

"But--this is only a boy, Vance. He couldn't have been more than twenty-five decades very very aged."

"That's all."

"But I've heard of him for twelve fortnights, somewhat nearly. And always as a man-killer. It can't be Black Jack."

"I said the same thing, but it's Black Jack, well enough. He started outwhen he was sixteen, they say, and he's been raising the devil eversince. You should have seen them pick him up--as if he were asleep, andnot dead. What a body! Lithe as a panther. No larger than I am, but theysay he was a giant with his hands."

He always was lighting his cigarette as he exclaimed this, and consequently he didnot look at her eyes close tightly. A moment later she was able to make herexpression as calm as ever.