he property, or to pay
us our salaries to hold it down," chuckled Scott.

"She says I am to come home at once," continued Polly, "but that I am not
to try to travel alone. Either Mr. Scott or Mr. Hard is to go with me to
the border."

"I'm glad somebody in your family has got good sense," said Scott, grimly.
"It's a pity those things aren't hereditary."

"Thank you. I think I prefer to have Mr. Hard go."

Hard bowed solemnly. "Bob coming back?" he asked.

"As soon as they'll let him," said Bob's sister, promptly.

"Yes, he likes a scrap," remarked Scott. "I hope they keep the papers away
from him this next week. Well, it's lucky for you, Miss Polly, that we've
got Pachuca's car. Traveling on these railroads is bad enough at any time,
but with a brand new revolution on hand, it'll be the deuce."

"I think it's rather horrid of them not to care whether I go home or not,"
Polly told herself, as she undressed for bed. "They might at least pretend
they don't want me to go! I always supposed that the one girl in a mining
camp would be dazzlingly popular--but this doesn't look much like it. And
yet--he likes me, I know he does! He liked my bringing the car back; I saw
it in his eyes, if he did make fun of me.

"He's jealous of Don Juan, too. Well, that won't do him any harm. He's so
determined not to fall in love with me that he's going to need a little
outside interference to make him change his mind. He's got to change his
mind because I--yes, I do care for him--a lot. People may think these
things don't come suddenly outside of books, but they do--oh, they do!"
And, worn out by the exertions of the day, Polly curled herself in a knot
and prepared to sleep.

Juan Baptisto Pachuca had not availed himself of the shakedown made for
him by Mrs. Van Zandt's blankets. He had put out his light because he
wanted to think and he preferred thinking by moonlight. He sat in Hard's
office chair by the window, closed now, for the night was cool, and
drummed impatiently upon the arm of it.

Mentally, Pachuca was more than impatient; he was outraged. His plans had
been spoiled, his liberty restricted and his dignity impaired. He had been
made to look ridiculous. Of all the offenses against him the latter was
the most serious. He hated giving up anything he had put his mind on, but
he hated a great deal more being made ridiculous.

Nor was it pleasant to be triumphed over by a girl. Juan Pachuca liked
girls, especially good-looki