“There yuh are,” said Santel disgustedly. “It’s about time for me to quit.” “It sure is—if Brick finds it out.” “All right,” Santel got to his feet. “I’ve quit. Now I’m goin’ to get drunk and as soon as I get paid for my work, I’m goin’ to pull my freight, _sabe_?” He swaggered back to the bar, leaving Hendricks and Leach at the table. “You sure picked a good man,” observed Hendricks. “Did I?” Leach smiled crookedly. “I guess that Santel found out what he came here to find. It’s no fault of his if we don’t agree with him.” “It’s a free country, Leach, and—here comes Brick now.” Brick was coming into the place, with Silent behind him. Santel was at the bar, taking a drink, but he turned and looked at Brick, who stopped short and faced Santel. Hendricks started to get up from the table, but Leach grasped him by the arm, drawing him back. Santel was just drunk enough to forget caution, and his lips drew up in a wolfish grin. “Well,” he said, as his voice carried to all parts of the room, “here’s Sun Dog County’s little tin god.” The bartender scuttled to the upper end of the bar, out of line with the two men, and those at a card-table behind Brick immediately lost all interest in their play and moved quickly. Brick was grinning and it irritated Santel. “You, I’m talkin’ to!” snarled Santel. “To me?” Brick laughed. “Well, that’s nice of yuh, Santel. I sure wondered who yuh meant, and I’m glad that Sun Dog likes me so well.” “Tha’sso?” Santel sneered. “You ain’t got sense enough to know when yo’re insulted.” “Have you insulted me?” questioned Brick wonderingly. He turned his head and looked around the room, as if asking someone to confirm it. Hendricks caught his eye and tried to signal a warning. Silent moved in beside the bar and began rolling a cigaret, as if nothing was the matter. Santel shot a glance at Silent, and it seemed that the big man’s unconcerned attitude irritated him. Brick turned back to Santel— “You didn’t really mean to insult me, didja, Santel?” “Well, I’ll be ——ed!” Santel’s voice was hoarse with indignation. “Did I really mean it?” Santel leaned forward until his face was within a foot of Brick, his hands spread out from his sides. His anger had made him forget that Brick was egging him on. “You red-headed pup!” Santel had evidently figured that Brick was afraid of him, but he was jerking back as he spoke; jerking back, as his right hand flashed for his gun. As quick as a cat Brick shifted just a trifle, slashing out with his right hand; a cutting stroke with the side of his hand, which caught Santel just at the middle of his throat and made him lose immediate interest in his gun. He straightened up, with both hands going to his throat, his face twisted with the agony of it, as he slithered along the edge of the bar. “Ambulance on the job!” snorted Silent; and before any one could prevent him he stepped in, caught Santel with both hands, swung him over his shoulder and went striding out of the saloon.