greatly excited or perturbed.

"Joan," he whispered, thrillingly, with his lips at her ear, "I've
made myself solid with Kells! Oh, the luck of it!"

"Tell me!" whispered Joan, and she leaned against those lips.

"It was early to-night at the Nugget. I dropped in as usual. Kells
was playing faro again with that gambler they call Flash. He's won a
lot of Kells's gold--a crooked gambler. I looked on. And some of the
gang were there--Pearce, Blicky, Handy Oliver, and of course Gulden,
but all separated. Kells was losing and sore. But he was game. All
at once he caught Flash in a crooked trick, and he yelled in a rage.
He sure had the gang and everybody else looking. I expected--and so
did all the gang--to see Kells pull his gun. But strange how
gambling affects him! He only cursed Flash--called him right. You
know that's about as bad as death to a professional gambler in a
place like Alder Creek. Flash threw a derringer on Kells. He had it
up his sleeve. He meant to kill Kells, and Kells had no chance. But
Flash, having the drop, took time to talk, to make his bluff go
strong with the crowd. And that's where he made a mistake. I jumped
and knocked the gun out of his hand. It went off--burned my wrist.
Then I slugged Mr. Flash good--he didn't get up. ... Kells called
the crowd around and, showing the cards as they lay, coolly proved
that Flash was what everybody suspected. Then Kells said to me--I'll
never forget how he looked: 'Youngster, he meant to do for me. I
never thought of my gun. You see! ... I'll kill him the next time we
meet. ... I've owed my life to men more than once. I never forget.
You stood pat with me before. And now you're ace high!'"