"In the mountains, in the mountains," was the reply. "Why do you ask where?" said Donoghue sharply. "Do you think if this gentleman knew where to find ’em he would be sitting here this blessed night?" I felt my heart take a quicker beat at that. Knowing what I knew of three of these men here I began to see what Mr. Laughlin meant by the "game" they were playing. "O, he might," said Canlan, now speaking for the first time since Apache’s arrival. "That would be a crazy thing to do," said Donoghue. "That would—a crazy thing—to set here instead of going and locating it." "O, I don’t know about _crazy_," said Mike. "You see, he might be waiting to see if anybody else knew where it was." The soft-footed Chinese attendant appeared carrying a lamp which he hung up above our heads, and in the light of it I saw the face of the man whose name I did not know, and he seemed mystified by the turn the conversation had taken. I was looking at him now, thinking to myself that I too would have been mystified had I not been posted in the matter that afternoon, and suddenly I heard Donoghue say: "By God! he knows right enough, Apache," and a gleam of light flashed in my eyes. It was the barrel of a revolver, but not aimed at me. It was in Donoghue’s hand, and pointed fairly at Canlan’s head. With a sudden intake of my breath in horror I flung out my hand and knocked the barrel up. There was a little shaft of flame, a sharp crack and puff of bitter smoke, and next moment a clatter of feet within and a knot of men thronging and craning at the door, while the window behind was darkened with others shouldering there and pressing their faces against the glass. "O you——" began Apache, and "What’s this?" cried Laughlin, coming out, no coward, as one might imagine, but calm enough and yet angry as I could see. "What in thunder are you all rubber-necking at the door there for?" cried Apache Kid, springing up. "Was it you fired that gun?" challenged the landlord. "No, not I," cried Apache so that all could hear. "Not but what I was the cause of it, by betting my partner here he could n’t snap a bat on the wing in the dusk. I never thought he’d try it, but he’s as crazy——" "I crazy!" cried out Donoghue; and to look at him you would have thought him really infuriated by the suggestion; but they knew how to play into each other’s hands. All this time I sat motionless. The stranger rose and passed by, remarking: "This ain’t my trouble, I guess," and away indoors he went among the throng, and I heard him cry out in reply to the questions: "I don’t know anything about it—saw nothing—I was asleep—I don’t even know who fired." "Haw! Did n’t even wake in time to see whose pistol was smoking, eh?" "No," cried he, "not even in time for that."