four, and a two--nine; he put down the box emphatically.

"Wall," Crocker decided impassively, "I guess that gives you the draw,
Jedge; we throw fer high in Garotte--sometimes," he went on, turning as
if to explain to Hitchcock, but with insult in his voice, and then,
"After you, Jedge!"

Rablay passed through the crowd into the next room. There, on a table,
was a small heap covered with a cloak. Silently the men pressed round,
leaving Crocker between the two adversaries in the full light of the
swinging lamp.

"Now, Jedge," said Crocker, with a motion towards the table.

"No!" returned the Judge, with white, fixed face, "he won; let him draw
first. I only want a square deal."

A low hum of surprise went round the room. Garotte was more than
satisfied with its champion. Crocker looked at Hitchcock, and said:

"It's your draw, then." The words were careless, but the tone and face
spoke clearly enough.

A quick glance round the room and Hitchcock saw that he was trapped.
These men would show him no mercy. At once the wild beast in him
appeared. He stepped to the table, put his hand under the cloak, drew
out a revolver, dropped it, pointing towards Rablay's face, and pulled
the trigger. A sharp click. That revolver, at any rate, was unloaded.
Quick as thought Crocker stepped between Hitchcock and the table. Then
he said: