sisterly prejudice in his favor. She saw a good-natured face, handsome,
with the cheeks growing a bit blocky, though Vance was only twenty-five.
He had a glorious forehead and fine eyes, but one would never look twice
at Vance in a crowd. She knew suddenly that her brother was simply a
well-mannered mediocrity.

"Thank the Lord you're yourself again, Elizabeth," her brother said first
of all. "I thought for a moment--I don't know what!"

"Just the shock, Vance," she said. Ordinarily she was well-nigh brutally
frank. Now she found it easy to lie and keep on smiling. "It was such a
horrible thing to see!"

"I suppose so. Caught you off balance. But I never knew you to lose your
grip so easily. Well, do you know what you've seen?"

"He's dead, then?"

He locked sharply at her. It seemed to him that a tremor of unevenness
had come into her voice.

"Oh, dead as a doornail, Elizabeth. Very neat shot. Youngster that
dropped him; boy named Joe Minter. Six thousand dollars for Joe. Nice
little nest egg to build a fortune on, eh?"

"Six thousand dollars! What do you mean, Vance?"

"The price on the head of Jack Hollis. That was Hollis, sis. The
celebrated Black Jack."