Nick was in the door as Clancy possessed himself of the bar.
“I’ll have you!” roared the Montana man. “My second try at you won’t end like the first.”
“This is your third attempt on my life, Clancy,” returned Nick, springing forward and watching the Westerner warily.
“The third time?” repeated Clancy, resting the red-hot end of the bar for an instant on the anvil.
“My name’s Nick Carter, and——”
A torrent of invectives burst from the robber’s lips.
“I’ll have you now,” he yelled. “I’ll strike a blow for Ramsay as well as for myself!”
He jumped through the door of the shop, whirling the bar about his head in a livid circle.
Straight toward Nick he rushed, shouting his imprecations and vowing that he’d have the detective’s life.
Nick waited coolly, the rifle in his hand.