"Put down that mouse, you freak!" he bellowed, charging across the room. "Put 'im down, I say, or I'll break you in two!" He launched his heavy fist as he spoke, but the little man ducked it neatly and, stepping behind a table, stood at bay, still holding the mouse. "Put 'im _down_, I tell you!" shouted the barkeeper, panting with vexation. "What--you won't, eh? Well, I'll learn you!" And with a wicked oath he drew his revolver and levelled it across the table. "Put--down--that--mouse!" he said slowly and distinctly, but Hardy only shook his head. Every man in the room held his breath for the report; the poker players behind fell over tables and chairs to get out of range; and still they stood there, the barkeeper purple, the little man very pale, glaring at one another along the top of the barrel. In the hollow of his hand Hardy held the mouse, which tottered drunkenly; while the cat, still clamoring for his prize, raced about under the table, bewildered. "Hurry up, now," said the barkeeper warningly, "I'll give you five. One--come on, now--two--" At the first count the old defiance leaped back into Hardy's eyes and he held the mouse to his bosom as a mother might shield her child; at the second he glanced down at it, a poor crushed thing trembling as with an ague from its wounds; then, smoothing it gently with his hand, he pinched its life out suddenly and dropped it on the floor. Instantly the cat pounced upon it, nosing the body eagerly, and Black Tex burst into a storm of oaths. "Well, dam' your heart," he yelled, raising his pistol in the air as if about to throw the muzzle against his breast and fire. "What--in--hell--do you mean?" Baffled and evaded in every play the evil-eyed barkeeper suddenly sensed a conspiracy to show him up, and instantly the realization of his humiliation made him dangerous. "Perhaps you figure on makin' a monkey out of me!" he suggested, hissing snakelike through his teeth; but Hardy made no answer whatever. "Well, _say_ something, can't you?" snapped the badman, his overwrought nerves jangled by the delay. "What d'ye mean by interferin' with my cat?" For a minute the stranger regarded him intently, his sad, far-seeing eyes absolutely devoid of evil intent, yet baffling in their inscrutable reserve--then he closed his lips again resolutely, as if denying expression to some secret that lay close to his heart, turning it with undue vehemence to the cause of those who suffer and cannot escape. "Well, f'r Gawd's sake," exclaimed Black Tex at last, lowering his gun in a pet, "don't I git _no_ satisfaction--what's your _i_-dee?" "There's too much of this cat-and-mouse business going on," answered the little man quietly, "and I don't like it." "Oh, you don't, eh?" echoed the barkeeper sarcastically; "well, excuse _me_! I didn't know that." And with a bow of exaggerated politeness he retired to his place.