h disfavour because of his lateness. The
Mexican took off his straw hat attached to a buttonhole by a silk cord,
and pushed up his black pompadoured hair.

"Have you got the Chandler ranch yet?" Jenkins came directly to the
point.

"Not yet, senor." Madrigal's bold, dark eyes smiled with supreme
confidence. "Not yet--but soon."

The Mexican stood up and returned his hat to his head. He put up his
hands as though strumming a guitar, turned up his eyes languishingly,
and hummed a flirting air.

"If this, senor," he said, breaking off, "does not win the senorita, we
will try--what you call hem--direct action. You shall have your ranch,
never fear."

"And that damned Rogeen--what of him?"

The Mexican smiled sinisterly. "He get news tonight that make heem
lose much sleep.

"Now may I trouble Senor Jenkins for fifty dollar?"

Reedy grumbled, but paid. The Mexican lifted his hand, pressed it to
his heart, and bowed with mocking gallantry.

"Until to-night, senor."

[Illustration: Lolita tries her wiles on Percy.]

CHAPTER IX

Reedy Jenkins and Mrs. Barnett sat in a cool, shadowed corner of the
porch. Reedy took a plump yellow cigar from his vest pocket, and with
a deferential bow:

"Will you permit me?"

"Certainly, Mr. Jenkins." Mrs. Barnett spoke in a liberal-minded tone.
"I do not object at all to the fragrance of a good cigar--especially
out of doors."

"It is a vile habit," said Jenkins, deprecatingly, as he began to puff.
"But after a fellow has worked hard on some big deal, and is all strung
up, it seems to offer a sort of relaxation. Of course, I think a man
ought to smoke in reason. We are coarse brutes at the best--and need
all the refining influences we can get."

"I think it is bad for the throat," said Evelyn Barnett. "That is what
I tell Uncle Crill. He smokes entirely too much."

Uncle Crill was absent. He usually was. The old chap was willing for
Evy to save his digestion within reason--but not his soul.

"My dear friend," Reedy made a rather impetuous gesture with his right
hand toward the demure widow, "it was splendid of you to persuade your
uncle to lend me that money for the big deal. It was the sort of thing
that one never forgets. We have plenty of friends willing to help us
spend our money, but only a few, a very few loyal ones, willing to help
us make it.

"Depend upon it, my dear young lady, I'll not forget that
favour--never. And as I promised befor