"Yuh gents is talkin' loud. I'm bettin' yuh my roll that Pete don't get his neck stretched," Baldy cackled. Toothpick saw the menace in the killer's eyes, and it sobered him. He tried to gather his scattered wits. He glanced at his friends and saw that they were incapable of action. Tad Hicks, with drooping head, clung to the rail of the bar. Toothpick knew that Baldy would push the affair and try to force Windy to take water. This, no matter what the consequences, Toothpick would not permit; certainly not, with that crowd of spectators all watching and listening. Windy had been a fool; Toothpick would have to use his wits to get him out of it. He chose his words carefully. "That roll of yallerbacks sure makes me hungry like a coyote, 'cause it's three days to pay day," he said, grinning. Both he and Windy moved to the left. If it came to gun play, their right hands would not be hampered in the draw. Baldy cackled derisively again. He turned to the hushed bystanders and grinned. Out of the tail of his eye Toothpick saw Jim Anson squirm through the crowd toward them. Baldy spoke slowly and raised his voice: "Gents, I'm askin' yuh to step up an'----" _Boom!_ A Colt roared behind Toothpick. Like flashes of light, guns leaped into the hands of Baldy and the Yuma Kid. "What the hell?" snarled Baldy. Toothpick swung about and saw Jim Anson looking foolishly at a smoking Colt on the floor. "Darn it!" the hobo wailed. "The durn thing was loaded." He looked so foolish as he stared at the gun that the crowd rocked with mirth, but Baldy spat like a wild cat. "What did yuh expect, yuh bum?" he shrieked. Tad Hicks had been aroused from his sleep by the shot and stared stupidly at Jim Anson. "When yuh guv it to me, yuh didn't say it was loaded," Anson stuttered reproachfully. Tad held out a wavering hand and picked up the gun. "Kick that hobo out o' here," cried Baldy. Hands seized Jim Anson and sent him spinning to the sidewalk. Jim Anson disposed of, Baldy turned again to Toothpick and Windy; but before he could speak, Bill Anderson shoved his way to the bar between the killer and the two riders. "It's right kind of you, Baldy," he remarked. "Huh?" Baldy blinked with surprise. "What yuh mean?" Bill Anderson looked at him blandly. "Didn't you say, just as that fool hobo learned that guns are loaded: 'Gents, I'm askin' you to step up and name your poison'? There's your money on the bar." The crowd chuckled and moved a step closer to the bar. Anderson, without waiting for a reply, called to the bartender: "I'll take straight whisky for mine." After one look into Anderson's eyes, Baldy grinned ingratiatingly. Toothpick and Windy decided that discretion was the better part of valor. Dragging Tad Hicks with them, they slipped out of the bar. "Huh!" Windy complained, as the cool air refreshed him. "I was lit up considerable, but now I'm plumb sober."