that
keeps up with an argument as well as you do. The rest of it is simple.
If they take you in only for a while it's long enough. Don't give 'em
time to hunt up the strawberry mark on your left shoulder. Old Urique
keeps anywhere from $50,000 to $100,000 in his house all the time in a
little safe that you could open with a shoe buttoner. Get it. My skill
as a tattooer is worth half the boodle. We go halves and catch a tramp
steamer for Rio Janeiro. Let the United States go to pieces if it can't
get along without my services. _Que dice, senor?_"

"It sounds to me!" said the Kid, nodding his head. "I'm out for the
dust."

"All right, then," said Thacker. "You'll have to keep close until we get
the bird on you. You can live in the back room here. I do my own
cooking, and I'll make you as comfortable as a parsimonious Government
will allow me."

Thacker had set the time at a week, but it was two weeks before the
design that he patiently tattooed upon the Kid's hand was to his notion.
And then Thacker called a _muchacho_, and despatched this note to the
intended victim:

EL SENOR DON SANTOS URIQUE,

LA CASA BLANCA.

_My Dear Sir:_ I beg permission to inform you that there is in my
house as a temporary guest a young man who arrived in Buenas
Tierras from the United States some days ago. Without wishing to
excite any hopes that may not be realized, I think there is a
possibility of his being your long-absent son. It might be well for
you to call and see him. If he is, it is my opinion that his
intention was to return to his home, but upon arriving here, his
courage failed him from doubts as to how he would be received.

Your true servant,

THOMPSON THACKER.

Half an hour afterward--quick time for Buenas Tierras--Senor Urique's
ancient landau drove to the consul's door, with the barefooted coachman
beating and shouting at the team of fat, awkward horses.

A tall man with a white mustache alighted, and assisted to the ground a
lady who was dressed and veiled in unrelieved black.

The two hastened inside, and were met by Thacker with his best
diplomatic bow. By his desk stood a slender young man with clear-cut,
sun-browned features and smoothly brushed black hair.

Senora Urique threw back her heavy veil with a quick gesture. She was
past middle age, and her hair was beginning to silver, but her full,
proud figure and clear olive skin retained traces of the beauty p