"Riggs?" said a voice behind the detective, and he looked into the face of his prey, Merle Macray.
Without another word Merle led the way to the ranch queen's private rooms and turned upon him.
He shut the door behind him and pointed to a pair of revolvers that lay on the table.
"You are not Riggs," said Merle. "The time for the unmasking has come. You are the American detective, Josiah Broadbrim."
Not a muscle of the detective's face quivered.
Merle stood over against the table, and as he spoke one of his hands picked up the nearest weapon.
"These weapons are loaded alike," he went on. "We are alone in this room, and here like men we fight to the death!"
"Who loaded the revolvers?"
"I saw them loaded. I watched the loading with keen eyes, and they are charged alike. I snuff out the light, and in the darkness we fight it out forever."
"Why not in the light?" asked Old Broadbrim.