rane's motives was the outcome of
considerable experience. The Banker's past life was not compatible with
generous dealing. His act of buying Diablo had been prompted by newborn
feelings of regard for the Porters, chiefly Allis; but no man, much less
Langdon, would have given him credit for other than the most selfish
motives.

True to his resolve, Langdon utterly refused to share his confidences
with Jakey Faust.

"We've tried the horses," he said, "and the Dutchman won, but Crane
knows more about the whole business than I do. You go to him, Jake, or
wait till he sends for you, an' you'll find out all about it. My game's
to run straight with one man, anyway, an' I'm goin' to do it."

That was all Faust could learn. When an occasion offered he slipped a
ten-dollar note into Shandy's hand, for he knew the lad was full open to
a bribe, but Shandy knew no more than did the Bookmaker. The Dutchman,
had won the trial from the Black quite easily, was the extent of his
knowledge. As to Diablo himself, Shandy gave him a very bad character
indeed.

XXI

Faust was in a quandary. First Crane had confided in him over Diablo,
but now his silence seemed to indicate that he meant to have this good
thing all to himself.

Then Langdon had promised to cooperate, now he, too, had closed up like
a clam; he was as mute as an oyster.

"Crane is dealin' the cards all the time," thought Faust; "but there's
some game on, sure."

He determined to back Diablo for himself at the long odds, and chance
it.

Two days later Crane received a very illiterate epistle, evidently from
a stable-boy; it was unsigned:

"DERE Boss, Yous is gittin it in the neck. de big blak hors he didn't
carre the sadel you think the blak hors had on his bak. Yous got de
duble cros that time. Der bokie hes axin me wot de blak is good fer der
bokie is playin fer to trow yous downe.

"No moar at presen."

This was the wholly ambiguous communication that Crane had found under
his door. There was no stamp, neither place nor date written in the
letter; nothing but an evident warning from some one, who, no doubt,
hoped to get into his good graces by putting him on his guard.

As it happened, Crane had just made up his mind to make his plunge on
Diablo while the odds were long enough to make it possible with the
outlay of very little capital. He smoked a heavy Manuel Garcia over
this new contingency. It did not matter about the saddles. Langdon had
confide