But again the thin hand was raised, this time with a slow, scornful waiving of any explanations. “It ain't that in partickler that I've kem to see ye for to-night,” said the stranger slowly, “nor it ain't about your takin' the name o' 'Farendell,' that friend o' yours who died on the passage here with ye, and whose papers ye borrowed! Nor it ain't on account o' that wife of yours ye left behind in Missouri, and whose letters you never answered. It's them things all together--and suthin' else!” “What the d---l do you want, then?” said Farendell, with a desperate directness that was, however, a tacit confession of the truth of these accusations. “Yer allowin' that ye'll get married tomorrow?” said Scranton slowly. “Yes, and be d----d to you,” said Farendell fiercely. “Yer NOT,” returned Scranton. “Not if I knows it. Yer goin' to climb down. Yer goin' to get up and get! Yer goin' to step down and out! Yer goin' to shut up your desk and your books and this hull consarn inside of an hour, and vamose the ranch. Arter an hour from now thar won't be any Mr. Farendell, and no weddin' to-morrow.” “If that's your game--perhaps you'd like to murder me at once?” said Farendell with a shifting eye, as his hand again moved towards his revolver. But again the thin hand of the stranger was also lifted. “We ain't in the business o' murderin' or bein' murdered, or we might hev kem here together, me and Duffy. Now if anything happens to me Duffy will be left, and HE'S got the proofs.” Farendell seemed to recognize the fact with the same directness. “That's it, is it?” he said bluntly. “Well, how much do you want? Only, I warn you that I haven't much to give.” “Wotever you've got, if it was millions, it ain't enough to buy us up, and ye ought to know that by this time,” responded Scranton, with a momentary flash in his eyes. But the next moment his previous passionless deliberation returned, and leaning his arm on the desk of the man before him he picked up a paperweight carelessly and turned it over as he said slowly, “The fact is, Mr. Farendell, you've been making us, me and Duffy, tired. We've bin watchin' you and your doin's, lyin' low and sayin' nothin', till we concluded that it was about time you handed in your checks and left the board. We ain't wanted nothin' of ye, we ain't begrudged ye nothin', but we've allowed that this yer thing must stop.” “And what if I refuse?” said Farendell. “Thar'll be some cussin' and a big row from YOU, I kalkilate--and maybe some fightin' all round,” said Scranton dispassionately. “But it will be all the same in the end. The hull thing will come out, and you'll hev to slide just the same. T'otherwise, ef ye slide out NOW, it's without a row.” “And do you suppose a business man like me can disappear without a fuss over it?” said Farendell angrily. “Are you mad?”