He left Simmons and descended to the street. As he passed the front of
the Willets Hotel he saw Lawler and his friends inside; but Lawler had
his back turned, and the others were interestedly watching him,
gesturing and talking.

Warden entered the front door of the Wolf. He stopped at the bar for a
drink, and the barkeeper told him, in reply to his question, that
Singleton was in a rear room.

Singleton was alone. He was sitting in a chair at a table, with a glass
in front of him, and he was staring abstractedly at the floor when
Warden entered, closing the door behind him.

Warden drew a chair up to the table and dropped into it. And then for
the first time he looked closely at Singleton's face and saw the gash on
his left cheek. The wound had been treated, but beneath the cloth at one
end Warden could see the open flesh.

"What in blazes has happened to you?" inquired Warden.

"Lawler," growled Singleton; "he walloped my kid down at the
schoolhouse, an' when I went down there to take the kid's part, he
walloped me, too." He grinned lugubriously. "I didn't know the cuss
could hit so hard," he muttered. "Warden, he salivated me--hit me so
durned hard I thought the roof had dropped on me."

Warden stiffened; then leaned forward, his lips loose, his eyes
malignant. "What do you carry those two guns for, Singleton? I thought
you knew how to use them. Men have told me you know."