Ike landed on his hands and knees on the hard ground, busting the knees out of his overalls and bruising his hands on the gravelly earth. His gun went spinning out of its holster and skidded into the dust. It was an ignominious thing to happen to a man such as Ike thought he was. He got slowly to his feet, cursing wickedly, and looked at Silent, who stood in the doorway. He turned from Silent, dusted off his sore knees with his sore hands and went to his gun. As he stooped over to pick it up, the dust fairly exploded under his hand, while from behind him came the crashing report of Silent’s six-shooter. Ike yanked away and almost fell down. “Yo’re kinda ignorant, ain’t yuh?” queried Silent coldly. “Better leave that gun alone until yuh sober up.” Ike squinted at Silent for a moment, straightened up and went across the street. He stopped in front of Wesson’s store and looked back, before he headed down the street. Silent went back into the saloon, where the poker game was resuming play. Banty Harrison and Slim Hunter had crowded in behind Silent, carrying their billiard cues, and now they whooped loudly and dragged Silent to the bar. “That’s bouncin’ ’em!” applauded Banty. “I’ll betcha he won’t do much crawlin’ for a while. I just knowed that Ike was goin’ to talk himself out of here.” Banty lowered his voice and glanced at Hank Stagg, who had moved over by the poker table. “Look out for Ike, Silent. He’s a dirty little pup, and he’s a streak with his gun.” “Kill him first, that’s my motto,” grinned Slim. “That’s right,” nodded Banty. “Every man that Slim has killed has been killed in just that way.” They finished their drinks and went back to their game. Silent remained at the bar, where he could watch both front and rear. He noticed that Santel had paid no attention to the trouble, not even getting out of the chair to see what was going on outside. “A salty gent,” decided Silent, “and worth watchin’!” Silent had hoped to find Brick and Harp in town, but had been informed that they had ridden away with Barney Devine. Soapy Caswell was still unconscious, but the doctor was optimistic. Slim and Banty finished their game and Silent joined them. “Yore fussy friend decided to sleep off his jag, I reckon,” opined Slim. “Mebbe.” Silent wasn’t so sure. “How does it come that Ike ain’t drivin’ stage today?” “He quit the job,” laughed Slim. “It was prob’bly too much for his brain. The strain must ’a’ been awful.” They walked outside and stood on the porch. Ike’s gun was not in the street and they all noticed this. “Sneaked back and got it,” said Silent seriously. “It’ll take him quite a while to clean the dust out of it, I’ll bet.” Brick and Harp were riding into town and the three men crossed to the office to meet them. “Hyah, pleecemen,” greeted Silent. “What do yuh know that’s worth the wear and tear on our ear-drums?”