“Maybe you did see it, and maybe you didn’t,” Morgan was saying to Mike noncommittally, “but there’s some pretty fair shots in this room, which I’d lay fifty bucks no man here could hit a dollar with a six-gun at twenty paces.”

“While they’re arguin’,” said Bill Kilduff, “I reckon I’ll hit the trail.”

“Wait a minute,” grinned Jim Silent, “an’ watch me have some fun with these short-horns.”

He spoke more loudly:  “Are you makin’ that bet for the sake of arguin’, partner, or do you calculate to back it up with cold cash?”

Morgan whirled upon him with a scowl, “I ain’t pulled a bluff in my life that I can’t back up!” he said sharply.

“Well,” said Silent, “I ain’t so flush that I’d turn down fifty bucks when a kind Christian soul, as the preachers say, slides it into my glove.  Not me.  Lead out the dollar, pal, an’ kiss it farewell!”

“Who’ll hold the stakes?” asked Morgan.

“Let your friend Mike,” said Jim Silent carelessly, and he placed fifty dollars in gold in the hands of the Irishman.  Morgan followed suit.  The crowd hurried outdoors.

A dozen bets were laid in as many seconds.  Most of the men wished to place their money on the side of Morgan, but there were not a few who stood willing to risk coin on Jim Silent, stranger though he was.  Something in his unflinching eye, his stern face, and the nerveless surety of his movements commanded their trust.

“How do you stand, Jim?” asked Lee Haines anxiously.  “Is it a safe bet?  I’ve never seen you try a mark like this one!”

“It ain’t safe,” said Silent, “because I ain’t mad enough to shoot my best, but it’s about an even draw.  Take your pick.”

“Not me,” said Haines, “if you had ten chances instead of one I might stack some coin on you.  If the dollar were stationary I know you could do it, but a moving coin looks pretty small.”

“Here you are,” called Morgan, who stood at a distance of twenty paces, “are you ready?”

Silent whipped out his revolver and poised it.  “Let ’er go!”

The coin whirled in the air.  Silent fired as it commenced to fall—­it landed untouched.

“As a kind, Christian soul,” said Morgan sarcastically, “I ain’t in your class, stranger.  Charity always sort of interests me when I’m on the receivin’ end!”

The crowd chuckled, and the sound infuriated Silent.

“Don’t go back jest yet, partners,” he drawled.  “Mister Morgan, I got one hundred bones which holler that I can plug that dollar the second try.”

“Boys,” grinned Morgan, “I’m leavin’ you to witness that I hate to do it, but business is business.  Here you are!”

The coin whirled again.  Silent, with his lips pressed into a straight line and his brows drawn dark over his eyes, waited until the coin reached the height of its rise, and then fired—­missed—­fired again, and sent the coin spinning through the air in a flashing semicircle.  It was a beautiful piece of gun-play.  In the midst of the clamour of applause Silent strode towards Morgan with his hand outstretched.