What he expected soon came. It was not the usual giggling, the usual
exchange of badinage and coarse jest beyond the closed curtains. Quade did
not come out rubbing his huge hands, his face crinkling with a sort of
exultant satisfaction. The girl preceded him. She flung the curtains aside
and stood there for a moment, her face flaming like fire, her blue eyes
filled with the flash of lightning. She came down the single step. Quade
followed her. He put out a hand.

"Don't take offence, girly," he expostulated. "Look here--ain't it
reasonable to s'pose----"

He got no farther. The man in the door had advanced, placing himself at the
girl's side. His voice was low and unexcited.

"You have made a mistake?" he said.

She took him in at a glance--his clean-cut, strangely attractive face, his
slim build, the clear and steady gray of his eyes.

"Yes, I have made a mistake--a terrible mistake!"

"I tell you it ain't fair to take offence," Quade went on. "Now, look
here----"

In his hand was a roll of bills. The girl did not know that a man could
strike as quickly and with as terrific effect as the gray-eyed stranger
struck then. There was one blow, and Quade went down limply. It was so
sudden that he had her outside before she realized what had happened.