"I don't like crowds," murmured Barry.

"You're wise, kid," grinned the bartender--"a hell of a lot wiser than
you know right now. On your way!"

And he turned to follow the crowd into the saloon. But Jerry Strann
stood at the swinging doors, watching, and he saw Barry linger behind.

"Are you coming?" he called.

"I got an engagement," answered the meek voice.

"You got another engagement here," mocked Strann. "Understand?"

The other hesitated for an instant, and then sighed deeply. "I suppose
I'll stay," he murmured, and walked into the bar. Jerry Strann was
smiling in the way that showed his teeth. As Barry passed he said
softly: "I see we ain't going to have no trouble, you and me!" and he
moved to clap his strong hand on the shoulder of the smaller man. Oddly
enough, the hand missed, for Barry swerved from beneath it as a wolf
swerves from the shadow of a falling branch. No perceptible effort--no
sudden start of tensed muscles, but a movement so smooth that it was
almost unnoticeable. But the hand of Strann fell through thin air.

"You're quick," he said. "If you was as quick with your hands as you are
with your feet----"

Barry paused and the melancholy brown eyes dwelt on the face of Strann.