“I know why you wanted Johnny Dice put out of the way, and I know that Crosbie Traynor didn’t kill himself. You know it, too! You’ll crawl to me before I’ve finished. You just try to kick me out, to cheat me—and I’ll tell what’s what. “You’ve kicked and beat me for years. You thought I didn’t mind. Well, I’ve made it my business to find out about you. You start your little tricks, and Molly Kent will know, and Johnny Dice will know. I’ll talk you so deep into jail that the Carson Penitentiary will crumble to ruins before they let you out.” Tobias hurled a chair from his path. “Get out of my way!” he warned Gallup. “I’m leaving this house now forever. When you’ve got something to say to me you can come to the hotel and find me.” And the slave marched out, the king at last! Kent and Gallup sat and stared at each other for countless minutes. Crushed, dumfounded, Kent reached for his hat finally and without a word stumbled down the stairs to get into his rig and start for home. Gallup seemed unaware of his going. Meal time came, but Aaron still sat in his upstairs room, fixedly gazing into space. Some one knocked at his door, but he heard it not. His brain refused to hold any thought other than that Johnny Dice lived and would have the truth from Tobias. Aaron’s gun lay upon the table before him. As he continued to sit in his trancelike state the pistol began to claim his attention. In fact, Gallup fancied it talking to him. “You’ve lived by the gun,” the weapon seemed to say. “I’ve seen you through every big crisis of your life. I do my work well when properly handled. I stop babbling tongues; smother secrets; give the old the strength of the young. I am your friend, Aaron Gallup. Men whom you have trusted have failed you or else they have been clumsy, stupid—in me alone can you place dependence.” Yes, it was plain, Johnny Dice had to die. Tobias and Madeiras were dangerous—they could be attended to later, but Johnny Dice’s end was imperative. He had to go. But how? It had to be soon—before the boy talked with the other two. That meant tonight! Johnny Dice would have to die tonight! Gallup began to shake off his lethargy. Between now and sundown he had to be ready. He went downstairs and puttered over his stove preparing food. Color flowed back into his face as his brain began to function again. He mumbled to himself as he settled on what he would do. Gallup’s vanity took much pleasure from the proposed plan. It was simple, but ripe with the native ingenuity which had brought Aaron across many a rough spot. In brief, it was this: no one but Tobias Gale and Jackson Kent knew that he had seen through Johnny’s game. The boy had first appeared to Kent and then to him. That argued that Johnny would be hiding out—anxious to keep alive the story of his death.