It was these very arrangements for evil which now afforded opportunity, and Keith crept forward, alert and ready, his teeth clenched, his hands bare for contest.

Even although he surprised his antagonist, it was going to be a fight for life; he knew "Black Bart," broad-shouldered, quick as a cat, accustomed to every form of physical exercise, desperate and tricky, using either knife or gun recklessly.

Yet it was now or never for all of them, and the plainsman felt no mercy, experienced no reluctance.

He reached the table, and straightened up, silent, expectant.

For an instant there was no further sound; no evidence of movement in the room.