He jumped up, scattering the crowd behind him.

"Look to the doors," cried Pony. "Don't let this man out."

McLean had his back to the wall. From under his coat he whipped two
revolvers which he held out, one in each hand.

"You ought to know me better than that, Greggs," he said, "do you want
me to have another shot at you? I won't miss this time. Drop that."

The last command was given in a ringing voice that attracted every
one's attention to Sotty. He had picked up a revolver from somewhere
behind the bar and had come out with it in his hand. McLean's eye
seemed to take in every motion in the room and he instantly covered the
bartender with one of the pistols as he gave the command.

"Drop it," said Mellish. "There must be no shooting. You may go
quietly. No one will interfere with you."

"You bet your sweet life they won't," said McLean with a laugh.

"Gentlemen," continued Mellish, "the house will stand the loss. If I
allow a swindler in my rooms it is but right that I alone should
suffer. Now you put up your guns and walk out."

"Good old Mellish," sneered McLean, "you ought to be running a Sunday-
school."

Notwithstanding the permission to depart McLean did not relax his
precautions for a moment. His shoulders scraped their way along the