know
something about this car; you've been driving it."

Pachuca's eyes danced. What was the use of being stiff with an American?
They were all alike--the men after money, and the women after what they
called independence!

"I think," he said, demurely, "that it must be attacked from underneath,
if you will hold the torch."

"All right." Polly smiled. "Go ahead. If you can't find it, I'll try."

Thus it was that Marc Scott's first acquaintance with Polly Street came as
he pulled the excited team to its haunches within a few feet of the
automobile, and she, holding Juan Pachuca's torch, jumped to her feet and
faced him.

"Oh!" she cried, eagerly, "is that you, Bob?" Then, seeing more clearly,
"I beg your pardon! We've had trouble with the car, but we've fixed it and
we'll be out of the way in a moment."

"I'm not Bob Street, but I'm from Athens, and I'm looking for Bob's
sister. I guess you must be her," replied Scott. "Well, who are you?" he
added, as Juan Pachuca's legs emerged from the car, followed by his body.

"It's not Mendoza--he's sick," volunteered Polly. "It's a gentleman who
was in the train and who kindly drove me over. Where is my brother?"

"Your letter only came to-night," stammered Scott, "and in the same mail
we had one from your brother in Douglas, saying he had been called
East----"

"East!" The blow was too sudden; Polly's legs collapsed. She sat down on
the running-board of the machine and gasped. In the meantime Juan Pachuca
stepped to the buckboard.

"It is Senor Scott?" he said pleasantly. "We have met before."

Scott surveyed him thoughtfully. "Well, by the Lord, if it ain't Johnny
Pachuca! Of all the nerve----"

"Exactly," grinned Pachuca, appreciatively. "You are surprised, eh? What
are you going to do about it?"

"That depends upon how you've treated the young lady," said Marc, quietly,
"and on your general behavior," he added, with a reciprocal grin.

"Haven't I told you that he was kind enough to drive me over?" said Polly,
impatiently. "And if----"

"That being the case," replied Scott, "I don't know as there's anything I
can do except say much obliged, and keep my eye on my horse-flesh. If
you'll get into the wagon, Miss ----"

"Oh, he's all right," said Pachuca, airily, as the girl hesitated. "He's
the manager of the Athens mine--Marc Scott--a very decent fellow. I regret
being deprived of your company, senorita, but he evidently intends to take
you back with him."