rs with poor, ignorant, Mexican girls who knew no better."

"We'll simply have to trust to her courage to tell the truth on the
proper occasion."

"Ah, but they'll trick her some way."

"And you?"

Martinez straightened, smiled, twirled his mustache.

"I? They aren't quite foxy enough for that, Mr. Weir," he boasted,
with glistening eyes.

The engineer was almost ready to believe that, but cunning was not the
only weapon in his enemies' arsenal. How would this lean lawyer stand
up under intimidation, bribes, threats?

"I trust so, Martinez," said he. "Do you think they will try to get me
sometime by an out-and-out gun-play?"

"No, no, no."

"Do you think they could if they tried?" Weir inquired, grimly.

The attorney paused with finger and thumb on the point of his
mustache, lifted his eyebrows and smiled broadly.

"They'll consider twice before they attempt it, after your expert
exhibition this evening," said he. "It was amazing, your speed, your
accuracy."

Steele tapped the man on the breast, who experienced a distinct tremor
at that significant touch and at the veiled menace in the dam
manager's eyes.

"There's always one bullet in my gun for the man who betrays me,
Martinez."

The lawyer licked his lips. On general principles he disliked
statements that committed one to the future. But it was necessary to
say something.

"To be sure. I should feel the same in your circumstances," he
responded. Then as Weir turned to his car, he continued: "The inquest
to-morrow morning should be over early. I'll visit you in the
afternoon as planned."

"Don't forget that letter," Weir called out.

Martinez marveled. Kill a man, and still remember a letter! That
magnified his respect immensely. Cool, that fellow! Then a slight
shiver as if a chill from those black peaks west of the town had
struck through his flesh rippled along his spine; for he had been
over at the jail with the crowd and had viewed that dead body lying
there on the stone floor. Not only cool, but dangerous and deadly,
this engineer. He, Martinez, must be discreet; it would not do to risk
gaining Weir's enmity. That cold-faced man could not be "monkeyed
with."

Martinez gnawed his mustache and eyed the dully illuminated office
window. He wondered if those four men inside had not at last found
their match, perhaps their master. Any one with half a brain could see
there was going to be a desperate struggle between the four and the
one, and