“That's Johnny Spanish,” declared a bystander, when Spanish, muttering his discontent, had gone his threatening way. Mersher's brother doubted it. He had heard of Spanish, but had never seen him. It was his understanding that Spanish was not in town at all, having lammistered some time before. “He's wanted be th' cops,” Mersher's brother argued. “You don't suppose he's sucker enough to walk into their mitts? He wouldn't dare show up in town.” “Don't con yourself,” replied the bystander, who had a working knowledge of Gangland and its notables. “That's Spanish, all right. He was out of town, but not because of the bulls. It's the Dropper he's leary of; an' now th' Dropper's in hock he's chased back. You heard what he said about comin' 'round ag'in? Take my tip an' rib yourself up wit' a rod. That Spanish is a tough kid!” The evening wore on at Mersher's; one hour, two hours, three went peaceably by. The clock pointed to eleven. Without warning a lowering figure appeared at the door. “There he is!” exclaimed the learned bystander. Then he added with a note of pride, albeit shaky as to voice: “What did I tell youse?” The figure in the doorway strode forward. It was Spanish. A second figure--hat over eyes--. followed hard on his heels. With a flourish, possible only to the close student of Mr. Beadle's dime literature, Spanish drew two Colt's pistols. “Come through wit' that ten!” said he to Mersher's brother. Mersher's brother came through, and came through swiftly. “I thought so!” sneered Spanish, showing his side teeth like a dog whose feelings have been hurt. “Now come through wit' th' rest!” Mersher's brother eagerly gave him the contents of the cash drawer--about eighty dollars. Spanish, having pocketed the money, wheeled upon the little knot of customers, who, after the New York manner when crime is afoot, had stood motionless with no thought of interfering. “Hands up! Faces to the wall!” cried Spanish. “Everybody's dough looks good to me to-night!” The customers, acting in such concert that it seemed as though they'd been rehearsed, hands held high, turned their faces to the wall. “You keep them covered,” said Spanish to his dark companion in arms, “while I go through 'em.” The dark companion leveled his own pistol in a way calculated to do the most harm, and Spanish reaped an assortment of cheap watches and a handful of bills. Spanish came round on Mersher's brother. The latter had stooped down until his eyes were on a par with the bar. “Now,” said Spanish to Mersher's brother, “I might as well cook you. I've no use for barkeeps, anyway, an' besides you're built like a pig an' I don't like your looks!”