ld
not justify himself. She might think what she liked.

"Found it waiting for me this morning, Miss Valdes."

"It was very fair and generous of you to send me the letter, I recognize
that fully. But of course I can't accept such a sacrifice," she told him
stiffly.

"Not necessary you should. Object if I smoke here?"

Valencia was a little surprised. He had never before offered to smoke in
the house except at her suggestion. "As you please, Mr. Gordon. Why
should I object?"

From his coat pocket Dick took the letter Don Bartolome had written to
his son, and from his vest pocket a match. He twisted the envelope into
a spill, lit one end, and found a cigarette. Very deliberately he puffed
the cigarette to a glow, holding the letter in his fingers until it had
burned to a black flake. This he dropped in the fireplace, and along
with it the unsmoked cigarette.

[Illustration: Holding the letter in his fingers until it had burned to
a black flake]

"Easiest way to settle that little matter," he said negligently.

"I judge you're a little impulsive, too, sometimes, Mr. Gordon,"
Valencia replied coldly.

"I never rode all night over the mountains to save a man who was trying
to rob me of my land," he retorted.

This brought a sparkle to her eyes. "I had to think of my foolish men
who were getting into trouble."

"Was that why you offered a hundred dollars' reward for the arrest of
these same men?" came his indolent, satiric reply.

"Don Manuel offered the reward," she told him haughtily.

An impish smile was in his eyes. "At your suggestion, he tells me. And I
understand you insisted on paying the bill, Miss Valdes."

"Why should he pay it? The men worked for me. They were brought up on my
father's place. They are my responsibility, not his," she claimed with
visible irritation.

"And now they're my responsibility, too--until I land them in the
penitentiary," he added cheerfully.

From his pocket he took a billbook and selected two fifty-dollar bills.
These he offered to Valencia.

She stood very straight. "You owe me nothing, sir."

"I owe you the hundred dollars you paid to get hold of Sebastian. And
I'm going to pay it."

"I don't acknowledge the debt. I wanted Sebastian for his sake, not
yours. Certainly I shall not accept the money."

"Just as you say. It isn't mine. Care if I smoke again?" he asked
genially.

She caught his meaning in a flash. "Not at all. Burn them if you like."

"Now, see