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Timber-Wolf's thick eyebrows lifted, and a new look dawned in his eyes.

"By thunder, Baby Devil, you've the makings of a man in you!" he exclaimed. "You and I could be friends!"

"Don't fool yourself. We won't be!"

"I didn't say we would!" And Bruce Standing glared at him angrily. "I only said we could. There's a difference there, Kid. I could eat tripe, but I'm damned if I ever will!"

As the two men eyed each other, it was impossible to conceive of any earthly happening bringing them within the warm enclosure of man's friendship.

But there was money in sight, and money in the hands of Timber-Wolf was habitually offered to fate as free money. And always, in the heart of Babe Deveril, when there was money in his pocket and money in sight, there was the impulse to hazard, to win or lose, and know the wild moment of a gambler's pleasure. And so he said swiftly:

"Just the same, I have a claim on that three thousand of yours!"

"Yes?" And again the heavy eyebrows were lifted as Timber-Wolf's interest was snared.