He had to pause a little, breathing heavily, and avoiding Donnegan’s eyes.  Finally he was able to continue.

“I’m going to roll my blankets and leave The Corner and everything I have in it.  You’ll get my share of most things, it seems.”  He smiled after a ghastly, mirthless fashion.  “I give you a free road.  I surrender everything to you, Donnegan.  But there are two things I want to warn you about.  It may be that my men will not agree with me.  It may be that they’ll want to put up a fight for the mine.  They can’t get at it without getting at Macon.  They can’t get at him without removing you.  And they’ll probably try it.  I warn you now.

“Another thing:  from this moment there’s no blood tie between us.  I’ve found a brother and lost him in the same day.  And if I ever cross you again, Donnegan, I’ll shoot you on sight.  Remember, I’m not threatening.  I simply warn you in advance.  If I were you, I’d get out of the country.  Avoid me, Donnegan, as you’d avoid the devil.”

And he turned on his heel.  He felt the eyes of the people in the room follow him by jerks, dwelling on every one of his steps.  Near the door, stepping aside to avoid a group of people coming in, he half turned and he could not avoid the sight of Donnegan and Nelly Lebrun at the other end of the room.  He was leaning across the table, talking with a smile on his lips—­at that distance he could not mark the pallor of the little man’s face—­and Nelly Lebrun was laughing.  Laughing already, and oblivious of the rest of the world.

Lord Nick turned, a blur coming before his eyes, and made blindly for the door.  A body collided with him; without a word he drew back his massive right fist and knocked the man down.  The stunned body struck against the wall and collapsed along the floor.  Lord Nick felt a great madness swell in his heart.  Yet he set his teeth, controlled himself, and went on toward the house of Lebrun.  He had come within an eyelash of running amuck, and the quivering hunger for action was still swelling and ebbing in him when he reached the gambler’s house.

Lebrun was not in the gaming house, no doubt, at this time of night—­but the rest of Nick’s chosen men were there.  They stood up as he entered the room—­Harry Masters, newly arrived—­the Pedlar—­Joe Rix—­three names famous in the mountain desert for deeds which were not altogether a pleasant aroma in the nostrils of the law-abiding, but whose sins had been deftly covered from legal proof by the cunning of Nick, and whose bravery itself had half redeemed them.  They rose now as three wolves rise at the coming of the leader.  But this time there was a question behind their eyes, and he read it in gloomy silence.

“Well?” asked Harry Masters.

In the old days not one of them would have dared to voice the question, but now things were changing, and well Lord Nick could read the change and its causes.

“Are you talking to me?” asked Nick, and he looked straight between the eyes of Masters.