"By God, it's mad!" And he raised his gun to draw the bead.
"Wait!" called the same voice which had checked the spring of the dog.
Surely it could not have come from the lips of Barry.

It held a resonance of chiming metal; it was not loud, but it carried like a brazen bell.

"Don't do it, Strann!" And it came to every man in the barroom that it was unhealthy to stand between the two men at that instant; a sudden path opened from Barry to Strann.
"Bart!" came the command again.

"Heel!" The dog obeyed with a slinking swiftness; Jerry Strann put up his gun and smiled.
"I don't take a start on no man," he announced quite pleasantly.

"I don't need to.