"And then?" asked the girl, very excited and grave.

"I'll find him," said Ronicky Doone.

"And--"

"Lady," he replied obliquely, "because I couldn't use a gun on a girl
ain't no sign that I can't use it on a gent!"

"I've one thing to tell you," she said, breaking in swiftly on him.
"Do what you want--take all the chances you care to--but, if you value
your life and the life of your friend, keep away from the man who
smiles."

"I'll have a fighting chance, I guess," said Ronicky quietly."

"You'll have no chance at all. The moment he knows your hand is
against him, I don't care how brave or how clever you are, you're
doomed!"

She spoke with such a passion of conviction that she flushed, and a
moment later she was shivering. It might have been the draft from the
window which made her gather the hazy-green mantle closer about her
and glance over her shoulder; but a grim feeling came to Ronicky Doone
that the reason why the girl trembled and her eyes grew wide, was that
the mention of "the man who smiles" had brought the thought of him
into the room like a breath of cold wind.

"Don't you see," she went on gently, "that I like you? It's the first
and the last time that I'm going to see you, so I can talk. I know