He walked to the door, flung it swiftly and silently open, and stepping

within, closed it behind him with his left hand. In the other

glittered the steel-blue barrel of a drawn revolver.

"Slavin, sit down!"

The terse, imperative words seemed fairly to cut the air, and the

red-bearded gambler, who had half risen to his feet, an oath upon his

lips, sank back into his seat, staring at the apparition confronting

him as if fascinated. Hampton jerked a chair up to the opposite side

of the small table, and planted himself on it, his eyes never once

deserting the big gambler's face.

"Put your hands on the table, and keep them there!" he said. "Now, my

dear friend, I have come here in peace, not war, and take these slight

precautions merely because I have heard a rumor that you have indulged

in a threat or two since we last parted, and I know something of your

impetuous disposition. No doubt this was exaggerated, but I am a

careful man, and prefer to have the 'drop,' and so I sincerely hope you

will pardon my keeping you covered during what is really intended as a

friendly call. I regret the necessity, but trust you are resting

comfortably."

"Oh, go to hell!"

"We will consider that proposition somewhat later." Hampton laid his

hat with calm deliberation on the table. "No doubt, Mr. Slavin,--if

you move that hand again I 'll fill your system with lead,--you

experience some very natural curiosity regarding the object of my

unanticipated, yet I hope no less welcome, visit."

Slavin's only reply was a curse, his bloodshot eyes roaming the room

furtively.

"I suspected as much," Hampton went on, coolly. "Indeed, I should have

felt hurt had you been indifferent upon such an occasion. It does

credit to your heart, Slavin. Come now, keep your eyes on me! I was

about to gratify your curiosity, and, in the first place, I came to

inquire solicitously regarding the state of your health during my

absence, and incidentally to ask why you are exhibiting so great an

interest in Miss Naida Gillis."

Slavin straightened up, his great hands clinching nervously, drops of

perspiration appearing on his red forehead. "I don't understand your

damned fun."

Hampton's lips smiled unpleasantly. "Slavin, you greatly discourage

me. The last time I was here you exhibited so fine a sense of humor

that I was really quite proud of you. Yet, truly, I think you do

understand this joke. Your memory can scarcely be failing at your

age.--Make another motion like that and you die right there! You know

me.--However, as you seem to shy over my first question, I 'll honor

you with a second,--Where's Silent Murphy?"




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