"Hello, Madison, when did you get in?"
Slowly John seemed to recover himself. Suddenly his hand went swiftly to his hip pocket and he drew out a revolver. Eyeing the broker with savage determination, he deliberately and slowly covered him with the deadly weapon. Brockton, who had seen the movement, sprang quickly to his feet. Laura, terror stricken, screamed loudly and threw herself right in the line of fire.
"Don't shoot!" she pleaded hoarsely.
Madison kept his rival covered, but he did not shoot. There was an uncertain expression in his face, as if he was wavering in his own mind as to whether he would kill this man or not. Slowly his whole frame relaxed. He lowered the pistol and quietly replaced it in his pocket, much to the relief of Brockton, who, notwithstanding the danger that confronted him, had stood his ground like a man. Turning to Laura, the Westerner said slowly:
"Thank you. You said that just in time."
There was an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of Laura weeping half hysterically. Finally Brockton, who had recovered his self-possession, said:
"Well, you see, Madison—what I told you that time in Denver——"
John made another threatening gesture which brought him face to face with the broker.
"Look out, Brockton," he said. "I don't want to talk to you——"
"All right," rejoined the broker, with a shrug of his shoulders.