u've only told me part of what I want to know," I pursued. "You
got me side-tracked. This daughter of the dead pardner--this girl, what
about her? Where is she now?"

"Europe, I believe."

"When did she go?"

"About three months ago."

"Any other relatives?"

"Not that I know of."

"H'm," I pondered. "What does she look like?"

"She's about medium height, dark, good figure, good-looking all right.
She's got eyes wide apart and a wide forehead. That's the best I can do.
Why?"

"Anybody heard from her since she went to Europe?"

"How should I know?" rejoined Brower, impatiently. "What you driving
at?"

"I think I've seen her. I believe she's not in Europe at all. I believe
she's a prisoner at the ranch."

"My aunt!" ejaculated Brower. His nervousness was increasing--the
symptoms I was to recognize so well. "Why the hell don't you just shoot
him from behind a bush? I'll do it, if you won't."

"He's too smooth for that." And I told him what Hooper had told me. "His
hold on these Mexicans is remarkable. I don't doubt that fifty of the
best killers in the southwest have lists of the men Old Man Hooper
thinks might lay him out. And every man on that list would get his
within a year--without any doubt. I don't doubt that partner's daughter
would go first of all. You, too, of course."

"My aunt!" groaned the jockey again.

"He's a killer," I went on, "by nature, and by interest--a bad
combination. He ought to be tramped out like a rattlesnake. But this is
a new country, and it's near the border. I expect he's got me marked. If
I have to I'll kill him just like I would a rattlesnake; but that
wouldn't do me a whole lot of good and would probably get a bunch
assassinated. I'd like to figure something different. So you see you'd
better come on in while the coming is good."

"I see," said the ex-jockey, very much subdued. "What's your idea? What
do you want me to do?"

That stumped me. To tell the truth I had no idea at all what to do.

"I don't want you to go out to Hooper's ranch alone," said I.

"Trust me!" he rejoined, fervently.

"I reckon the first best thing is to get along out of town," I
suggested. "That black bag all the plunder you got?"

"That's it."

"Then we'll go out a-horseback."

We had lunch and a smoke and settled up with McCloud. About
mid-afternoon we went on down to the livery corral. I knew the keeper
pretty well, of course, so I borrowed a horse and saddle for Brower. The
latter