Part 2 What Occurred in Glencaid Chapter 11 The Door Opens, and Closes Again

He had planned his work, and was perfectly prepared to meet its
dangers. He entered the almost deserted saloon opposite the hotel,
across the threshold of which he had not stepped for two years, and the
man behind the bar glanced up apprehensively.

"Red Slavin?" he said. "Well, now see here, Hampton, we don't want no
trouble in this shebang."

"I 'm not here seeking a fight, Jim," returned the inquirer, genially.
"I merely wish to ask 'Red' an unimportant question or two."

"He's there in the back room, I reckon, but he's damn liable to take a
pot shot at you when you go in."

Hampton's genial smile only broadened, as he carelessly rolled an
unlighted cigar between his lips.

"It seems to me you are becoming rather nervous for this line of
business, Jim. You should take a good walk in the fresh air every
morning, and let up on the liquor. I assure you, Mr. Slavin is one of
my most devoted friends, and is of that tender disposition he would not
willingly injure a fly."

He walked to the door, flung it swiftly and silently open, and stepping
within, closed it behind him with his left hand. In the other
glittered the steel-blue barrel of a drawn revolver.

"Slavin, sit down!"

The terse, imperative words seemed fairly to cut the air, and the
red-bearded gambler, who had half risen to his feet, an oath upon his
lips, sank back into his seat, staring at the apparition confronting
him as if fascinated. Hampton jerked a chair up to the opposite side
of the small table, and planted himself on it, his eyes never once
deserting the big gambler's face.