Just as Chub was about to lay his hand on the door-knob a knock fell on the panel. He opened the door and found Mrs. Spooner, the landlady, outside. There was an odd look on Mrs. Spooner's face. "There's a man down-stairs as wants to see Matt," said she. "He come in one of them gasoline wagons, an' Matt may be as surprised to hear as I am to tell him that it's--_Hawley, the gambler_!" Mrs. Spooner's voice sank to a frightened whisper. "Dirk Hawley!" muttered Chub, staring at Matt. "Sugar, what in tunket can the blackleg want with you?" Matt was as much surprised as were Mrs. Spooner and Chub. He did not even know the man, although he had seen him many times, and had heard a good deal about him that was not to his credit. "I'm puzzled to know why he's coming to see me," muttered Matt, taking a look at the motor-car through the window. "Have him walk up, Mrs. Spooner, and I'll find out what he wants." Chub hesitated a moment as though he would like to stay for the interview, but finally he left, passing Hawley on the stairs. Dirk Hawley owned one of the largest gambling-dens in Phoenix, and was reputed to be worth a mint of money. He wore fierce diamonds, had a racing-stable and cut a wide swath among the gambling fraternity. He stepped blandly into Matt's room, and took his sizing for a moment with keen, shifty eyes. "You don't know me, I reckon," said he loudly, "but it's dollars to doughnuts I ain't a stranger to you for all that. Ask anybody and they'll tell you Dirk Hawley's a good sport to tie to. Rise to that? Dirk Hawley never goes back on his friends. I've come here to get acquainted with you, King, and to make a friend of you." He put out his hand. "Shake," he added. "I don't care to shake," answered Matt. "We're not traveling the same way, Mr. Hawley, and I don't know what good it would do for us to get acquainted." Hawley drew down the lid of his right eye and chuckled. "No? Well, there's nothing flatterin' about that, but I like your frankness, hang me if I don't. Now, I'm going to drop down in one of these nice easy chairs and tell you just how much more I can do for you in a day than Woolford could in a month." Picking out the biggest chair, he sank into it; then, extracting a gold-mounted cigar-case from his pocket, he extended it toward Matt. Matt shook his head. Hawley chuckled again, extracted a fat cigar and slowly lighted it.