The rat activities ceased. After a time Montell came poking back again, carrying the rifle in his right hand. As he reached the end of the table, so close to me that I could have touched him, and within six feet of Barreau, he stumbled, pitched sharply forward, and the report of the gun made my heart leap. With the forward lurch of Montell’s body Barreau cast himself backward like an uncoiled spring, and fell full length, thus escaping the bullet. He made no attempt to rise, simply rolled over on his side. For an instant a pistol glinted in his hand, and his thin lips were drawn back from his white, even teeth. As quickly as he had drawn it he thrust the six-shooter back out of sight. The habitual unruffled expression came back to his face as Montell got upon his feet, leaving the rifle upon the floor. Barreau sat up then. “By the great horn spoon,” Montell stammered. “I—I oughto be kicked. By gosh, I thought that hammer was down. Darn me for a careless fool, runnin’ round with a loaded gun and stumblin’ over a little piece of wood. I’d no idee I was so blamed clumsy. I guess I’m gettin’ old all right.” Barreau laughed, a cold-blooded unmirthful sound. He got up from his sitting posture, laid hold of the rifle, and stood it against the wall beside him. Then he sat down on his box, and felt with his fingers till he located the bullet hole. It was embedded in the log, on a level with his breast. “Clumsy?” Barreau said, in a voice nearly devoid of inflection. “Well, yes; it was rather clumsy.” Montell was facing the light now. Barreau got up from his box again, and Montell took a step backward. Thus for a half-minute the two faced each other silently, gray eye pitting itself against cold, steel-blue. Montell weakened under that direct contemptuous glare. His glance sought me in a furtive way, and the fat, pudgy hands of him began to fidget. “Don’t do it again, Montell,” Barreau said slowly, and his tone was like a slap in the face. Then he sat down upon the box and rolled himself another cigarette. CHAPTER XVI—CLAWS UNSHEATHED The heavy log walls must have muffled the shot completely, for, contrary to my expectations, no inquiring faces came poking in the door. In pure defiance, I believe, Barreau kept his place by the fire, smoking placidly till it wore on to ten o’clock. Then Montell, pursing up his lips, put on his overcoat and left without a word. Shortly after that Cullen came in, followed by Ben Wise. They slept in the store, one at each end. At their entrance Barreau drew the _parka_ hood about his ears and we took our departure. The fire was down to a single charred stick, but the chill had not yet laid hold of the air within, and we made ready for bed before the numbing fingers of the frost made free with our persons. I stretched myself on my bunk and wrapped the blankets and a rabbit-skin robe about me, but Barreau sat on the edge of his bed, staring into the candle flame as if he sought therein the answer to a riddle.