white of face and clothes to fight and struggle over their prizes.
Those dollars with the chips and neat round holes in them would
confirm the truth of a story that the most credulous might be tempted
to laugh or scorn. A cowpuncher offered ten dollars for one of the
relics--but none would part with a prize.

The moment the shooting was over Dan stepped quietly back and restored
the guns to the owners. The first man seized his weapon carelessly. He
was in the midst of his rush after one of the chipped coins. The other
cowpuncher received his weapon almost with reverence.

"I'm thankin' you for the loan," said Dan, "an here's hopin' you
always have luck with the gun."

"Luck?" said the other. "I sure _will_ have luck with it. I'm goin'
to oil her up and put her in a glass case back home, an' when I get
grandchildren I'm goin' to point out that gun to 'em and tell 'em what
men used to do in the old days. Let's go in an' surround some red-eye
at my expense."

"No thanks," answered Dan, "I ain't drinkin'."

He stepped back to the edge of the circle and folded his arms. It was
as if he had walked out of the picture. He suddenly seemed to be aloof
from them all.

Out of the quiet burst a torrent of curses, exclamations, and shouts.
Chance drew Jim Silent and his three followers together.

"My God!" whispered Lee Haines, with a sort of horror in his voice,