"The hell!"

"Went upstairs."

"Wants to be alone," interrupted the girl. "He'll come down and talk whenhe feels like it. That's Pete's way."

"Watching us, perhaps," growled Joe Pollard, with a shade of uneasinessstill. "Damned funny gent, Pete is. Watches a man like a cat; watches agopher hole all day, perhaps. And perhaps the gent he watches is a friendhe's known for ten months. Well--let Pete go. They ain't no explaininghim."

Through the last part of his talk, and through the heaviness of hisvoice, cut another tone, lighter, sharper, venomous: "Phil, you gummedthem dice that last time!"

Joe Pollard froze in place; the eyes of the girl widened. Terry, lookingacross the chamber, saw Phil Marvin scoop up the dice and start to his feet.

"You lie, Slim!"

Instinctively Terry slipped his hand onto his gun. It was what PhilMarvin had done, as a matter of fact. He stood swelling and glowering,staring down at Slim Dugan. Slim had not risen. His skinny, lithe body wascoiled, and he reminded Terry in ugly fashion of a snake ready to strike.His hand was not near his gun. It was the calm courage and self-confidence of a man who is sure of himself and of his enemy. Terry hadheard of it before, but never seen it. As for Phil, it was plain that hewas ill at ease in spite of his bulk and the advantage of his position.He was ready to fight. But he was not at all pleased with the prospect.

Terry again glanced at the witnesses. Every one of them was alert, butthere was none of that fear which comes in the faces of ordinary men whenstrife between men is at hand. And suddenly Terry knew that every one ofthe five men in the chamber was an old familiar of danger, every one of thema past master of gun fighting!

CHAPTER 24