A few minutes after twelve, there was a light knock at the door.
The bartender, who went to it and looked through a slide, came back to Nat.
“Feller out there askin’ fer youse,” he said.
Both men got up, but Nat pushed Jack back into his chair.
“I’ll see who ’tis,” he said.
He went to the door and looked through the slide.
Claymore’s face appeared there as if it were a picture in a frame.
“He’s all right,” said Nat to the bartender; “friend o’ mine. Let him in.”
The door was opened, and Nat’s friend came in.