"Mackey was afraid to use what he had on you, and I was satisfied to hold off on it as long as I didn't need the money. When you started him up in business here, Johnnie considered things square between him and you."
"I never started him up in business here, or anywhere else," Stott declared, red with his vehemence.
"Johnnie was satisfied, he was making ten dollars to your one. I got to thinking the hand I held against you never would be any good, and I was glad enough to draw another to fill. I'm full now; I hold a royal flush."
"And the settlement you're going to make to-day, sir," said Texas very gently, his voice low and well controlled, "goes back to the time Mackey raised that six-thousand-dollar note of Ed McCoy's for you to read sixty thousand, the very day you murdered McCoy with your own hand."
"You're a liar!" said Stott, springing to his feet, his face as white as the dead. "I'll make you prove it!"
"You'd better set down and keep cool," Texas advised.
"Do you realize what it means to charge a man with murder?" Stott demanded. His hand shook as he gripped the back of his chair.
"To the last word I do, Mr. Stott."
"I'll hand you over to the sheriff—I'll make you
