The eyes of the two met, and which was the braver man it had been hard to tell. Neither flinched. Eddring returned a gaze as direct as that which he received. The florid face back of the barrel held a gleam of half-admiration at witnessing his deliberation. The claim agent's eye did not falter. "You said fifty dollars, Colonel Blount," said he, just a suggestion of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Don't you think there has been a slight misunderstanding between us two? If you are so blamed particular, and really _want_ a check for fifty, why, here it is." He busied himself a moment, and passed over a strip of paper. Even as he did so, the ire of Colonel Blount cooled as suddenly as it had gained warmth. A sudden contrition sat on his face, and he crowded the paper into his pocket with an air half shamefaced. "Sir--Mr. Eddring," he began falteringly. "Well, what do you want? You've got your check, and you've got the railroad. We've paid our little debt to you." "Sir," said Blount. "My friend--why, sir, here is your julep." "To hell with your julep, sir!" "My friend," said Blount, flushing, "you serve me right. I am forgetting my duties as a gentleman. I ask you into my house." "I'll see you damned first," said Eddring, hotly. "Right!" cried Blount, exultingly. "You're right. You're one of the fighting Eddrings, just like your daddy and your uncle, sure as you're born! Why, sir, come on in. You wouldn't punish the son of your uncle's friend, your own daddy's friend, would you?" But the ire of Eddring was now aroused. A certain smoldering fire, long with difficulty suppressed, began to flame in spite of him. "Bring me out a plate," said he, bitterly, "and let me eat on the gallery. As you say, I am only a claim agent. Good God, man!" and then of a sudden his wrath arose still higher. His own hand made a swift motion. "Give me back that check," he said, and his extended hand presented a weapon held steady as though supported by the limb of a tree. "You didn't give me a fair show." [Illustration: "EDDRING GAZED INTO THE ROUND APERTURE OF IHE MUZZLE] "Well, by the eternal!" half whispered Colonel Calvin Blount to himself. "Ain't he a fighting chicken?" "Give it to me," demanded Eddring; and the other, astounded, humbled, reached into his pocket. "I will give it to you, boy," said he, soberly, "and twenty like it, if you'll forget all this and come into my house. I'm mighty sorry. I don't want the money. You know that. I want _you._ Come on in, man." He handed back the slip of paper. "Come on in," he repeated. "I will not, sir," said Eddring. "This was business, and you made it personal." "Oh, business!" said Blount. "Sir," said John Eddring, "the world never understands when a man has to choose between being a business man and a gentleman. It does not always come to just that, but you. see, a man has to do what he is paid to do. Can't you see it is a matter of duty? I can't afford to be a gentleman--"