“How d'ye know there ain't?” the gambler demanded. “Er--er--well, the fact is, Harley, Mrs. Pennycook--” “She went an' looked, eh?” “Well, she was concerned about the girl's reputation--” “Huh-huh. I see. Dan, do _you_ believe this scandal?” “Not a damned word of it” said honest Dan firmly. “There's some mistake. The girl's good. I've seen her grow up in this town since she was a baby, an' girls like Donna Corblay don't go wrong.” Mr. Hennage extended his freckled, hairy hand. “Dan” he said, “I thank you for that. But your missus ain't playin' fair.” Pennycook threw up his hands deprecatingly. “I know it” he said, “an' I can't help it.” Harley P. laid his hand on the yardmaster's shoulder. “Dan” he said, “me an' you've been good friends, man to man, an' there's just a chance that after to-day we ain't a-goin' to meet no more. You take my compliments to Mrs. Pennycook, Dan, an' tell her that I've kept my word, even if she didn't keep hers. That worthless convict brother-in-law o' yours is dead, Dan. You can quit worryin'. He'll never blackmail you again. He's as dead as a mackerel an' I seen him buried. Dan, old friend, _adios._” He shook hands warmly with the yardmaster and walked over to the Silver Dollar saloon, where, in order to smother his distress, he played game after game of solitaire. Here, shortly after his arrival, he had learned of Borax O'Rourke's latest move, and when the latter entered the saloon an hour later, Harley P. had delivered his ultimatum. For an hour after O'Rourke had left the Silver Dollar for the ostensible purpose of purchasing a gun, the gambler continued to play solitaire. At three o'clock he arose, kicked back his chair, sighed, and glanced at the crowd which had been hanging around, watching him. “Twenty games to-day an' never beat it once” he complained. “No use talkin', boys, my luck's changed.” He walked to the bar, laid a handful of gold thereon and gave his order. “Wine.” He turned to the crowd. “It happens that there ain't no officer o' the law in San Pasqual to-day to interfere in the forthcoming festivities between me an' O'Rourke. I do hope that none o' you boys'll feel called on to interfere. I take it for granted you won't, out o' compliment to me, an' as a further compliment I'd be obliged if you-all'd honor me to the extent o' havin' a little nip.” The crowd shuffled to the bar, and a lanky prospector in from the dry diggings at Coolgardie spoke up. “I'm a stranger here, but I'll help pull a rope tight around that mule-skinner's neck. It looks to me like a community job, an' if you say the word, friend, I'll head a movement to relieve you o' the resk o' cancelin' that entry.” “Thank you, old-timer” replied Mr. Hennage kindly, “but this is a personal matter, an' it's been the custom in this town to let every man kill his own skunks. All set, boys. Smoke up!” Each of his guests half turned, facing the gambler. As one man they spoke. “How.”