g an alley as Clay finished speaking. He slipped into
its friendly darkness and was presently lost to sight. It ran into an
inner court which was the center of tortuous passages. The cattleman
stopped to get his bearings, selected the likeliest exit, and brought
up in the shelter of a small porch. This, he felt sure, must be the
rear of the house he wanted.

A strip of lattice-work ran up the side of the entrance. Very
carefully, testing every slat with his weight before trusting himself
to it, he climbed up and edged forward noiselessly upon the roof. On
hands and knees he crawled to the window and tried to peer in.

The blind was down, but he could see that the room was dark. What
danger lurked behind the drawn blind he could not guess, but after a
moment, to make sure that the revolver beneath his belt was ready for
instant use, he put his hand gently on the sash.

His motions were soundless as the fall of snowflakes. The window moved
slowly, almost imperceptibly, under the pressure of his hands. It gave
not the faintest creak of warning. His fingers found the old-fashioned
roller blind and traveled down it to the bottom. With the faintest of
clicks he released the spring and guided the blind upward.

Warily he lifted one leg into the room. His head followed, then the
rest of his body. He waited, every nerve tensed.

There came to him a sound that sent cold finger-tips laying a tattoo up
and down his spine. It was the intake of some one's cautious breathing.

His hand crept to the butt of the revolver. He crouched, poised for
either attack or retreat.

A bath of light flooded the room and swallowed the darkness. Instantly
Clay's revolver leaped to the air.

CHAPTER XIII

A LATE EVENING CALL

A young woman in an open-neck nightgown sat up in bed, a cascade of
black hair fallen over her white shoulders. Eyes like jet beads were
fastened on him. In them he read indignation struggling with fear.

"Say, what are you anyhow--a moll buzzer? If you're a porch-climber
out for the props you've sure come to the wrong dump. I got nothin'
but bum rocks."

This was Greek to Clay. He did not know that she had asked him if he
were a man who robs women, and that she had told him he could get no
diamonds there since hers were false.

The Arizonan guessed at once that he was not in the room mentioned in
the letter. He slipped his revolver back into its place between shirt
and trousers.

"Is