his manner, a fresh assumption of bullying in his voice.

"All right, then; I reckon I got yer number, Craig. Yer after a little
easy money. Somehow yer caught onto the mix-up down yere, an' framed
up a scheme to cop the coin. Might hav' worked too if I had n't been
on the job, an' posted. Damn nice-lookin' girl yer picked up--"

"Drop that, Coombs!" I interrupted sharply, leaning forward and staring
him in the eyes. "Let loose all you care to about me, but cut out the
woman!"

"Oh, too nice, hey!"

"Yes, too nice for you to befoul even with your tongue. If you mention
her name again except in terms of respect there is going to be trouble."

He laughed, opening and closing his big hands.

"I mean it," I went on soberly. "Don't think I am afraid of you, you
big slob. No, you keep your hands where they are. If it comes to a
draw you 'll find me quick enough to block your game. Now listen."

Had I been less in earnest, or less puzzled as to the real situation, I
would have laughed at the expression upon the man's face. With hat
pulled over his eyes, he sat stiff, staring at me, his fingers
twitching nervously, unable to determine just the species confronting
him. I made no display of a weapon; he could not be sure that I was
armed, yet my right hand was hidden in the side pocket of my coat. I
could read the doubt, the indecision in his mind, as plainly as though
expressed in words. The brute and the coward struggled for mastery.