The black mustache hung down; a heavy lock of black hair dropped down over the brow; deep-set, hollow, staring eyes looked out piercingly.

The man had a restless, alert, nervous manner.

He put his hands on the board that served as a bar and stared at Duane.

But when he met Duane's glance he turned hurriedly to go on serving out liquor.
"What have you got against him ?" inquired Duane, as he sat down beside Euchre.

He asked more for something to say than from real interest.