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"What's the matter? Isn't it you, Miss Peggy?"

"No, it ain't. It's your old pal, Nick Struve. Ain't you glad to

see him, Joe?"

Dunke looked him over without a word. His thin lips set and his

gaze grew wall-eyed. The candle passed from right to left hand.

Struve laughed evilly. "No, I'm not going to pay you that

way--not yet; nor you ain't going to rid yourself of me either.

Want to know why, Mr. Millionaire Dunke, what used to be my old

pal? Want to know why it ain't going to do you any good to drop

that right hand any closeter to your hip pocket?"

Still Dunke said nothing, but the candle-glow that lit his face

showed an ugly expression.

"Don't you whip that gun out, Joe Dunke. Don't you! 'Cause why?

If you do you're a goner."

"What do you mean?"