There was money upon the table between the two men. The Basque pushed the gold pieces to the floor with a sweep of his hand. “Money mean not’ing to Tony Madeiras,” Johnny heard him say. “Thass leetla theeng—money. You tell me ’bout those jail at Carson. Ha, ha! Those jail be nice place for you, too, _señor_.” “Don’t be a fool, Madeiras,” old Aaron whined. “You can’t send me down there without goin’ yourself.” “I go eef I have to. I’m strong; jail ees no nice place for old man like you. Me, I do not try to keel Johnny. I just crease him, I t’ink. Those rock, they keel him; but judge, he say we keel him just the same, I guess. Now what you say—you steel try marry those girl?” Aaron did not answer. “As sure you try those trick,” Tony went on, “I go see the Señor Kelsey”—the district attorney. “You will, eh?” Gallup cried. “Like hell you will!” His hand came up from under the table, a pistol, black and ominous, held rigidly. “You’ll tell nothin’!” he screamed as he leveled his gun at the Basque’s head. A blood-curdling yell broke from Johnny’s lips as he saw the old man’s finger tighten on the trigger. Gallup jumped. His chair crashed over as he kicked it out of his way. The Basque’s eyes rolled until their whites showed. What was that in the window—a dead man’s face? “_Hola! Virgen santa!_” Madeiras shouted, and he made the sign of the cross. “Johnny! Johnny Dice!” Gallup’s palsied hand pointed his gun at the apparition. Johnny contorted his face and laughed diabolically. The old man’s finger pressed the trigger and shot the window pane to bits, but the boy was gone. He had beaten the gun by an instant. Charlie Paul had felt the boy’s legs stiffen. The next he knew Johnny was on the ground beside him. A moment later they were lost in the night. When they found their ponies the boy permitted himself his first laugh. “That yell of mine,” he said, “wasn’t in the play. No, sir! Madeiras was up there. Gallup would have killed him in another second.” “Good old Tony,” thought Johnny. Molly was safe! Madeiras was a hero. He was making a Judas of himself for his pal’s sake. “Guess we don’t go back there pretty soon, eh?” Charlie chuckled. “Surest thing!” exclaimed Johnny. “I know now that he’ll scare. We have plenty fun along that man, Charlie.” Madeiras had discovered as much, too. Even seeing the ghost of Johnny Dice had not robbed him of all sense. When Gallup turned back from the shattered window he found himself looking into the Basque’s gun. “I tak’ those peestol now, _señor_,” he said. Aaron was too dumfounded to object. “Did yuh see it?” he demanded. “It was him!” “_Madre de Dios!_ Of course I see heem,” the Basque cried angrily. His hands flashed out and caught Gallup. Lifting him off his feet he hurled him across the room. “I ought to keel you!” he growled. CHAPTER XXIII THE GUN SPEAKS