the Mexican lawyer's declaration, but she was too
sensible to imagine on that account that peril did not exist. The town
was not aware of what had occurred, that was all,--not yet. The chief
actors in the conspiracy were still moving stealthily against their
intended victims; they had pounced on Martinez and once they had
seized the evidence they sought they would arrest Weir. Afterwards the
people, as she guessed the matter, would be aroused to create a strong
sentiment against the helpless men. It was an atrocious business.

But as yet things were in a lull--and it was during this pause, brief,
critical, that Martinez expected her to act. That much she had grasped
from his hurried words. She reached his office and halted to listen.
No gleam came from the building, nor from the low structure on either
side, and across the way all was dark--dark as it had been that night
when the assassin's shot had been fired at Steele Weir. Repressing a
shudder, she bade the Mexican girl follow her, groped for the door
knob, found it and pushed the door open.

Martinez had spoken of men forcing an entrance, so it must have been
at the rear. Inside all was pitchy black.

"Juanita, you have a match in your pocket, haven't you?" she demanded,
anxiously.

"Yes, Miss Janet."

"Strike it, then."

In the pent stillness of the dark office Janet could hear the Mexican
girl fumbling in the pocket of her gingham dress. There came a
scratching sound and a tiny flame.

"Be careful of it," she warned. "Now give it to me. And close the
door."

Janet lighted the smoky lamp resting on the table, next took it up in
her hand. A few papers had fallen upon the floor. The room was still
strong with fresh cigarette smoke. Martinez could not have been gone
more than five minutes.

And in another five minutes' time too Martinez' captors might be back
again!

Holding the lamp aloft she peered about for an old chair, her heart
beating rapidly, her lips compressed. But all the chairs, the three or
four in the room, were old. Her eyes encountered the Mexican girl
staring open-mouthed and scared.

"Take the lamp and keep by me," Janet ordered. "Don't upset it. What
are you shaking for, you ninny?"

"I can't help it--and you're so white," the other whimpered.

"Never you mind me; do as I say."

Janet swiftly went from one chair to another, turning them about,
upside down, all ways. No paper was hidden in or under any one of
them, or indeed was