"Shut the gate, there!" he shouted.

As its two sides clashed together again, he turned deliberately to
Clarence.

"That's all very well, young man, as regards the TITLE. You may have
BOUGHT up the land, and legally own every square inch of howling
wilderness between this and San Francisco, and I wish you joy of
your d--d fool's bargain; you may have got a whole circus like that,"
pointing to the gloomy Jim, "at your back. But with all your money and
all your friends you've forgotten one thing. You haven't got possession,
and we have."

"That's just where we differ," said Clarence coolly, "for if you take
the trouble to examine the house, you will see that it is already in
possession of Mrs. Peyton,--MY TENANT."

He paused to give effect to his revelations. But he was, nevertheless,
unprepared for an unrehearsed dramatic situation. Mrs. Peyton, who had
been tired of waiting, and was listening in the passage, at the mention
of her name, entered the gallery, followed by the young ladies. The
slight look of surprise upon her face at the revelation she had just
heard of Clarence's ownership, only gave the suggestion of her having
been unexpectedly disturbed in her peaceful seclusion. One of the
Mexicans turned pale, with a frightened glance at the passage, as if he
expected the figure of the dead man to follow.

The group fell back. The game was over,--and lost. No one recognized it
more quickly than the gamblers themselves. More than that, desperate and
lawless as they were, they still retained the chivalry of Western men,