wagged approving' heads now and paid him the tribute of many a
furtive tear.

Don Nicolas Sandoval rode his horse through the crowd presently and
opened a path for the car.

"I'm afraid this has been a trifle embarrassing for you, Miss Parker,"
Farrel remarked, as they proceeded down the street. "I shall not
recognize any more of them. I've greeted them all in general, and some
day next week I'll come to town and greet them in detail. They were all
glad I came back, though, weren't they?" he added, with a boy's
eagerness. "Lord, but I was glad to see them!"

"I can hardly believe you are the same man I saw manhandling your enemy
an hour ago," she declared.

"Oh," he replied, with a careless shrug, "fighting and loving are the
only two worth-while things in life. Park in front of the court-house,
William, please."

He excused himself to Kay and ran lightly up the steps. Fifteen minutes
later, he returned.

"I have a writ of execution," he declared. "Now to find the sheriff and
have him serve it."

They located Don Nicolas Sandoval at the post-office, one leg cocked over
the pommel of his saddle, and the El Toro _Sentinel_ spread on his knee.

"Father's old business with the Basque, Don Nicolas," Farrel informed
him. "He has money deposited in his own name in the First National Bank
of El Toro."

"I have grown old hunting that fellow's assets, Miguel, my boy," quoth
Don Nicolas. "If I can levy on a healthy bank-account, I shall feel that
my life has not been lived in vain."

He folded his newspaper, uncoiled his leg from the pommel, and started up
the street at the dignified fast walk he had taught his mount. Farrel
returned to the car and, with Kay, arrived before the portals of the bank
a few minutes in advance of the sheriff, just in time to see Andre
Loustalot leap from his automobile, dash up the broad stone steps, and
fairly hurl himself into the bank.

"I don't know whether I ought to permit him to withdraw his money and
have Don Nicolas attach it on his person or not. Perhaps that would be
dangerous," Miguel remarked. He stepped calmly out of the car, assisted
Kay to alight, and, with equal deliberation, entered the bank with the
girl.

"Now for some fun," he whispered. "Behold the meanest man in
America--myself!"

Loustalot was at the customers' desk writing a check to cash for his
entire balance in bank. Farrel permitted him to complete the drawing of
the check, watched the Basque