devil was here for
no good," he said, starting for the door.

"Don't be a fool, Marc Scott!" Clara's voice was sharp and angry. "We saw
Pachuca and those two men go off on horseback. He hasn't carried off
Polly!"

"I didn't say he'd carried her off," said Scott, doggedly. "She sat where
she could see him at dinner. You saw him--so did she--and he saw her. This
riding off is a blind----"

"You're going to be terribly ashamed of yourself for what you're saying. I
know that girl. She wouldn't do a thing like that any more than I would.
I'm going to see Mabel Penhallow and find out what she knows about it,"
said Clara, angrily.

"I'm going to find that boy and choke the life out of him. Get out of my
way, Hard."

"Look here, Scotty, that's not the way to handle this affair,"
remonstrated Hard, barring Scott's progress toward the door and speaking
with a warmth unusual to him. "Let's get hold of Penhallow and tell him
that Pachuca's over on this side----"

"I don't need a sheriff to handle my affairs."

"This isn't your affair, it's the Government's. If this chap's got the
nerve to think he can come over here after the way he's acted with
American property it's up to the Government to put him right."

"I can't find Mabel." Clara had returned, her face worried. "The Mexican
girl said she saw an automobile go by a quarter of an hour ago and that
Polly was in it. A Mexican was driving and she thought there was another
man in the car. Marc, he has kidnapped her!"

But Scott had burst out of the room, followed by Hard. Clara, pale and
frightened, watched them from the window. Scott's blood was boiling. At
first, stung with a sense of injury at Polly's treatment of him, he had
leaped to the jealous conclusion that she had seen and communicated with
Pachuca. Scott was not a model lover. He was not of the type which
believes always until convinced by proof. He was a hot-blooded, jealous,
none too good tempered man, who lost his head very easily when he believed
himself ill-treated. Now that he was beginning to realize that the affair
might have a different complexion--that the girl had perhaps been
overpowered and carried off--he was furious in another way, this time
against Pachuca and against himself.

Mendoza had left his car outside his favorite saloon but the car was gone
and so was Mendoza.

"I thought I could trust that old greaser but I guess I was wrong,"
groaned Scott. "We'll get horses from the stable, Hard,