Suddenly somebody called Long Mike a liar. Opinions differed when the matter was afterward discussed, as to who the person was. Some of them said it was Stumpy, but the only reason why they thought so, as they were obliged to admit when the statement was questioned, was that Stumpy was Irish and also red-headed, and a red-headed Irishman was always liable to make a bad break. Others thought that Gallagher had spoken the word, and this seemed more probable, for Gallagher was of a morose temper at best, and utterly reckless when in his cups. But Gallagher denied it, and nobody excepting the man who spoke ever knew who it was that uttered the word. Several persons were talking at the time, but there was no doubt that somebody exclaimed, “You’re a liar!” At the word the one-eyed man disappeared under the table at which he had been playing. Had the door been nearer to him, or had there been a window in the rear of the room, there is little doubt that he would have gone outside, but the door was the only available exit, and it would have taken two or three seconds for him to reach that. Two or three seconds form an appreciable interval of time. The tendency of most persons to shoot too high, rather than too low, is well known to everybody who has had experience in such matters, and the course of action pursued by the one-eyed man in getting under the table is the one generally approved. He never carried a gun himself, and moreover, while he did not distinctly approve of the use of the expression that had been applied to Long Mike, he had sufficient sympathy with the thought expressed to restrain him from any impulse toward resenting it on Mike’s behalf. The fusilade, though it was furious, was brief. Five revolvers were emptied, and as three of them were seven-shooters, while the other two had only five chambers each, it was readily reckoned up that thirty-one shots were fired. Considering the size of the room, which was not great, and the fact that there were fifteen or sixteen persons present, it seemed a little remarkable that no one was hurt, but after the first volley Sam came out from behind the bar and interfered gently, but firmly, with Long Mike, who was trying in a fumbling sort of way to reload his pistol. “Put that away,” said Sam, “or I’ll brain you where you stand.” Long Mike looked at him and then at the bung-starter which he held poised ready for use, and forthwith put his pistol back in his pocket. Being unable, in the confusion of words which followed, to determine who it was that had insulted him, he burst out crying and invited all hands to drink at his expense. There was a prompt response to the invitation by everybody but the one-eyed man, who had resumed his game of solitaire, and Sam was juggling his glasses with his usual skill when the whistle of the _Rosa Lee_ was heard from the river. Three minutes later Sam and the one-eyed man were alone in the room.