"Look here," said Blount, his calm becoming still more menacing, as
with a sudden whip of his hand he reached behind him. Like a flash he
pulled a long revolver from its holster. Eddring gazed into the round
aperture of the muzzle and certain surrounding apertures of the
cylinder. "Write me a check," said Blount, slowly, "and write it for
fifty. I'll tear it up when I get it if I feel like it, but no man
shall ever tell me that I took fifteen dollars for a Himyah filly.
Now you write it."

He spoke slowly. His pistol hand rested on his knee, now suddenly
drawn up. Both voice and pistol barrel were steady.

The eyes of the two met, and which was the braver man it had been
hard to tell. Neither flinched. Eddring returned a gaze as direct as
that which he received. The florid face back of the barrel held a
gleam of half-admiration at witnessing his deliberation. The claim
agent's eye did not falter.

"You said fifty dollars, Colonel Blount," said he, just a suggestion
of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Don't you think there has
been a slight misunderstanding between us two? If you are so blamed
particular, and really _want_ a check for fifty, why, here it is." He
busied himself a moment, and passed over a strip of paper. Even as he
did so, the ire of Colonel Blount cooled as suddenly as it had gained
warmth. A sudden contrition sat on his face, and he crowded the paper
into his pocket with an air half shamefaced.

"Sir--Mr. Eddring," he began falteringly.