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.
"Put your hands on the table, and keep them there!" he said. "Now, my
dear friend, I have come here in peace, not war, and take these slight
precautions merely because I have heard a rumor that you have indulged
in a threat or two since we last parted, and I know something of your
impetuous disposition. No doubt this was exaggerated, but I am a
careful man, and prefer to have the 'drop,' and so I sincerely hope you
will pardon my keeping you covered during what is really intended as a
friendly call. I regret the necessity, but trust you are resting
comfortably."
"Oh, go to hell!"
"We will consider that proposition somewhat later." Hampton laid his
hat with calm deliberation on the table. "No doubt, Mr. Slavin,--if
you move that hand again I 'll fill your system with lead,--you
experience some very natural curiosity regarding the object of my
unanticipated, yet I hope no less welcome, visit."
Slavin's only reply was a curse, his bloodshot eyes roaming the room
furtively.
"I suspected as much," Hampton went on, coolly. "Indeed, I should have
felt hurt had you been indifferent upon such an occasion. It does
credit to your heart, Slavin. Come now, keep your eyes on me! I was
about to gratify your curiosity, and, in the first place, I came to
inquire solicitously regarding the state of your health during my
absence, and incidentally to ask why you are exhibiting so great an
interest in Miss Naida Gillis."
Slavin straightened up, his great hands clinching nervously, drops of
perspiration appearing on his red forehead. "I don't understand your
damned fun."
Hampton's lips smiled unpleasantly. "Slavin, you greatly discourage
me. The last time I was here you exhibited so fine a sense of humor
that I was really quite proud of you. Yet, truly, I think you do
understand this joke. Your memory can scarcely be failing at your
age.--Make another motion like that and you die right there! You know
me.--However, as you seem to shy over my first question, I 'll honor
you with a second,--Where's Silent Murphy?"