Slowly through these engrossing reflections a sound crept to Glenning's brain. He had been conscious of it for several moments in an indifferent way, but all at once it assumed the tones of a conversation. He inclined his head in the direction from whence the sound came, and caught a name which made him start. He got up, alert, calm, quiet, and moved swiftly towards the cheap oak dresser. He now observed for the first time that this sat in front of a door connecting with another room, and it was from that room the voices came. There was no transom, but by moving the dresser slightly he would have access to the keyhole. This would have to be accomplished without noise. He listened. The voices had sunk to a murmur. There was no choice, and instantly his long, sinewy fingers gripped the top of the dresser on either side. Oh, how it hurt when he put forth his strength! But he lifted it, swerved it a few inches, and set it down without a sound. The exertion had racked his body with acutest pain, but he smiled grimly as he thought of what his recent caller would have said and done could he have seen him, then squatted before the keyhole and softly put his ear to the tiny aperture. In an instant his face grew grave. "Tonight, Travers; it must be tonight," a husky, coarse voice was whispering; "it's got to be done!" "And you want _me_ to do it?" came the answering whisper, in a nervous, excited manner. "Yes. There's nothing in the State that can beat my Thunderer, Daystar and Imperial Don except that long-legged devil-colt. You want to retire from business. You can do it after this summer's racing with the tips I'll give you _if you'll kill Dudley's colt tonight_!" "I can't! I can't!" was the moaning reply. "I'm not too good; I'm afraid!" "Afraid of what?" a sneering voice returned. "Of the dark, two old niggers, an old man and a girl? You're not game a bit!" "Let me think ... let me think! How much can I make?" "Ten thousand, easy. See here, it can be done in a minute. We've tried poison and fire, but there's no escape from a pistol bullet, unless that lank fool who last night went where I tried to go chooses to stand in the way--and I shouldn't care if he did." "Where will the horse be?--the stable's burned flat." "I'll find that out today and let you know soon after dark. But you'd better not do it till along towards three in the morning. Everybody will be asleep then." "But if they should catch me, Marston? I'm supposed to be respectable!" "Damn you for a rank coward!" was the explosive rejoinder, spoken aloud. "I know a fellow who'll do it for a ten-dollar bill!" The heavy tramping of feet followed this harsh speech, as though the man who had spoken was leaving the room.