Timber-Wolf's thick eyebrows lifted, and a new look dawned in his eyes. "By thunder, Baby Devil, you've the makings of a man in you!" he exclaimed. "You and I could be friends!" "Don't fool yourself. We won't be!" "I didn't say we would!" And Bruce Standing glared at him angrily. "I only said we _could_. There's a difference there, Kid. I could eat tripe, but I'm damned if I ever will!" As the two men eyed each other, it was impossible to conceive of any earthly happening bringing them within the warm enclosure of man's friendship. But there was money in sight, and money in the hands of Timber-Wolf was habitually offered to fate as free money. And always, in the heart of Babe Deveril, when there was money in his pocket and money in sight, there was the impulse to hazard, to win or lose, and know the wild moment of a gambler's pleasure. And so he said swiftly: "Just the same, I have a claim on that three thousand of yours!" "Yes?" And again the heavy eyebrows were lifted as Timber-Wolf's interest was snared. "If it's mine, it comes to me. If it's yours, you keep it and take three thousand from me to boot. I'll flip a coin with you!" "Baby Devil!" laughed Standing softly. "Oh, Baby Devil, if your mamma could only see you now!" "Are you on?" demanded Deveril, in a suppressed voice. "On? With bells, Baby Devil! Heads or tails, and let her flicker!" Lynette Brooke could catch only enough of all this to set her wondering. The two men were agreeing upon something, and all the while jeering at each other, and, though they checked their words and subdued their voices, anger was directing whatever they did or meant to do. Both men were eager and tense. For both made of life a game of hazard. With Babe Deveril three thousand dollars, to be won or lost in the flicker of an eyelid, was a large sum of money; to Bruce Standing, a man of millions, it was no great thing. Yet neither of them was more tense and eager than the other. The game was the thing. Automatically, perhaps subconsciously intending to have a free hand, since his rifle was still held in his left, Bruce Standing stuffed his spurned bank-notes into his pocket. But it was Deveril who, having conceived the idea, was first to produce a coin; a silver dollar, and mate to those other silver dollars which he had presented to the girl, Maria. "Heads or tails, Standing?" he demanded, holding the coin ready to toss ceilingward. "Throw it," said Timber-Wolf, with his characteristic grin, "and I name it while it's in the air. For I don't know what sleight-of-hand you may have acquired these later years, and I don't trust you, my sweet kinsman! And shoot fast, as some one's coming." For both had heard the rattle of hoofs in the road outside, as some horseman came racing up to the door. "Name it, then," cried Deveril, and shot the coin, spinning, upward. "Heads!" Timber-Wolf named it. "Always heads. My motto there, Kid!"