"The best work that Denver ever done was bringing you to me," he declared. "Which you'll find it out before I'm through. I'm going to give you a home!" And he strode away before Terry could answer. The rather rare consciousness of having done a good deed swelled in the heart of Joe Pollard on his way down from the balcony. When he reached the floor below, he found that the four men had gone to bed and left Denver alone, drawn back from the light into a shadowy corner, where he was flanked by the gleam of a bottle of whisky on the one side and a shimmering glass on the other. Although Pollard was the nominal leader, he was in secret awe of the yegg. For Denver was an "in-and-outer." Sometimes he joined them in the West; sometimes he "worked" an Eastern territory. He came and went as he pleased, and was more or less a law to himself. Moreover, he had certain qualities of silence and brooding that usually disturbed the leader. They troubled him now as he approached the squat, shapeless figure in the corner chair. "What you think of him?" said Denver. "A good kid and a clean-cut kid," decided Joe Pollard judicially. "Maybe he ain't another Black Jack, but he's tolerable cool for a youngster. Stood up and looked me in the eye like a man when I had him cornered a while back. Good thing for him you come out when you did!" "A good thing for you, Joe," replied Denver Pete. "He'd of turned you into fertilizer, bo!" "Maybe; maybe not. Maybe they's some things I could teach him about gun- slinging, Pete." "Maybe; maybe not," parodied Denver. "You've learned a good deal about guns, Joe--quite a bit. But there's some things about gun fighting that nobody can learn. It's got to be born into 'em. Remember how Black Jack used to slide out his gat?" "Yep. There was a man!" "And Minter, too. There's a born gunman." "Sure. We all know Uncle Joe--damn his soul!" "But the kid beat Uncle Joe fair and square from an even break--and beat him bad. Made his draw, held it so's Joe could partway catch up with him, and then drilled him clean!" Pollard scratched his chin. "I'd believe that if I seen it," he declared. "Pal, it wasn't Terry that done the talking; it was Gainor. He's seen a good deal of gunplay, and said that Terry's was the coolest he ever watched." "All right for that part of it," said Joe Pollard. "Suppose he's fast-- but can I use him? I like him well enough; I'll give him a good deal; but is he going to mean charity all the time he hangs out with me?" "Maybe; maybe not," chuckled Denver again. "Use him the way he can be used, and he'll be the best bargain you ever turned. Black Jack started you in business; Black Jack the Second will make you rich if you handle him right--and ruin you if you make a slip." "How come? He talks this 'honesty' talk pretty strong."