Owen struggled, broke away, and shouted: "Damn you, let me alone! I'm going to tell these people who you are.
You're----" Again his talk was stilled.

This time the method was swift and certain.

Sanderson took another step toward him and struck.

His fist landed on Owen's jaw, resounding with a vicious smack! in the sudden silence that had fallen, and Owen crumpled and sank to the floor in an inert heap.
Sanderson was bending over him, preparing to carry him to his room, when there came an interruption.

A big man, with a drawn six-shooter, stepped to Sanderson's side.