sounds very extravagant, I know; what my brother-in-law used to
call a bit thick. But I can help you--to a treasure."

"A treasure?" incredulously.

"Exactly. You have heard that I was for a time with Villa?"

Polly nodded.

"Well, in his camp I met some very strange people--among them a fellow
named Gasca--what you call a bad lot. He told me one night when he was
very drunk--you know, senorita, how some people talk about their affairs
when they are drunk?"

Polly's eyes were beginning to shine with excitement.

"He told me that he and his brother had hidden a treasure over in New
Mexico."

"A treasure! Do you mean pieces-of-eight and Spanish doubloons?"

"Oh, no, I am afraid not. It would be bullion--ore. They took it from one
of the Fiske, Doane Co. mines in Chihuahua. That is why your brother would
be interested. Perhaps you have heard of the Sant Ynez mine?"

"Bullion!" Polly's face dropped.

"For me, I would not object to bullion if I could get my hands on it, but
I can't," said Pachuca, candidly. "Gasca, you understand, had this brother
who lived in New Mexico, in a lonely sort of a spot on the border, with an
Indian woman that he had stolen from her people. He helped Gasca get the
treasure across the border--and they hid it in the canyon where he lived.

"Shortly after that they quarreled and the brother threatened to shoot
Gasca if he came near the place. Also, he told the border patrol some
things about Gasca so that he was afraid to go over any more. Just after I
met Gasca, he had heard, in a roundabout way as my people hear things,
that the brother had been killed and the Indian woman had died of a
sickness. Gasca wanted me to go over with him to find out if the treasure
was still there--he felt sure that it was because he said the brother
would be afraid to dispose of it without his help--but I had what you call
other fish to fry. Afterward, Gasca himself was shot for disobeying a
command of the general. If you will help me to get away I will tell you
exactly where that treasure is."

Polly rose suddenly, the light of determination in her eyes.

"No," she said, firmly. "I won't. Mr. O'Grady, will you come and help me
with this tray, please?"

"Sure Mike!" In two strides the fireman was in the room, his eyes looking
searchingly at both the man and the girl. Pachuca, with a shrug of his
shoulders, put his hands in his pockets and strode to the window. The
dishes were piled up in silence, the do