me," he said quietly. Quigley laughed. Waring's eyes were
unreadable.

The smile faded from Quigley's face. Without knowing just why he did it,
he relinquished the sack.

Waring turned to Donovan. "I'll take care of this, Bill. As I told you
before, you can't bluff worth a damn."

Waring strode to the door. At Quigley's choked exclamation of protest,
the gunman whirled round. Donovan stood by the desk, a gun weaving in
his hand.

"You ought to know better than to pull a gun on me," said Waring. "Never
throw down on a man unless you mean business, Bill."

The door clicked shut.

Donovan stood gazing stupidly at Quigley. "By cripes!" he flamed
suddenly. "I'll put Jim Waring where he belongs. He can't run a whizzer
like that on me!"

"I'd go slow," said Quigley. "You don't know what kind of a game Waring
will play."

Donovan grabbed the telephone and called up the Sonora police.

Chapter IV

_The Silver Crucifix_

When in Sonora, Waring frequented the Plaza Hotel. He had arranged with
the management that his room should always be ready for him, day or
night. The location was advantageous. Nearly all the Americans visiting
Sonora and many resident Americans stopped at the Plaza. Waring
frequently picked up valuable bits of news as he lounged in the lobby.
Quietly garbed when in town, he passed for a well-to-do rancher or
mining man. His manner invited no confidences. He was left much to
himself. Men who knew him deemed him unaccountable in that he never
drank with them and seldom spoke unless spoken to. The employees of the
hotel had grown accustomed to his comings and goings, though they seldom
knew where he went or definitely when he would return. His mildness of
manner was a source of comment among those who knew him for what he was.
And his very mildness of manner was one of his greatest assets in
gaining information. Essentially a man of action, silent as to his plans
and surmises, yet he could talk well when occasion demanded.

It was rumored that he was in the employ of the American Government;
that he had been disappointed in a love affair; that he had a wife and
son living somewhere in the States; that for very good reasons he could
not return to the States; that he was a dangerous man, well paid by the
Mexican Government to handle political matters that would not bear
public inspection. These rumors came to him from time to time, and
because he paid no attention to them they were accepted a