wall; he shuddered inwardly as he heard the
steady, slithering sound behind her.

"Got to get that Thing out of the way," he mumbled. The great barn
door was open; from within he could hear his chauffeur whistling. So
he urged the mare to a trot and got past the barn without having been
observed. An ancient straw stack stood in the rear of the barn and in
the shadow of this he halted, removed the riata from the pommel,
dragged the body close to the stack, and with a pitchfork he hastily
covered it with old, weather-beaten straw. All of this he accomplished
without any purpose more definite than a great desire to hide from his
wife and from his daughter this offense which Pablo had thrust upon him.

He led the black mare into the barn and tied her. Then he returned to
Pablo.

The old Indian was sitting up. At sight of Parker he commenced to
curse bitterly, in Spanish and English, this invader who had brought
woe upon the house of Farrel. But John Parker was a white man.

"Shut up, you saddle-colored old idol," he roared, and shook Pablo
until the latter's teeth rattled together. "If the mischief is done it
can't be helped--and it was none of my making. Pull yourself together
and tell me where this killing occurred. We've got to get Don Miguel's
body."

For answer Pablo snarled and tried to stab him, so Parker, recalling a
fragment of the athletic lore of his youth, got a wristlock on the old
man and took the dirk away from him. "Now then," he commanded, as he
bumped Pablo's head against the adobe wall, "you behave yourself and
help me find Don Miguel and bring him in."

Pablo's fury suddenly left him; again he was the servant, respectful,
deferential to his master's guest. "Forgive me, _senor_," he muttered,
"I have been crazy in the head."

"Not so crazy that you didn't do a good job on that Jap murderer. Come
now, old chap. Buck up! We can't go after him in my automobile. Have
you some sort of wagon?"

"_Si, senor_."

"Then come inside a moment. We both need a drink. We're shaking like
a pair of dotards."

He picked up Pablo's dirk and give it back to the old man. Pablo
acknowledged this courtesy with a bow and followed to Parker's room,
where the latter poured two glasses of whisky. Silently they drank.

"Gracias, _senor_. I go hitch up one team," Pablo promised, and
disappeared at once.

For about ten minutes Parker remained in his room, thinking. His wife
and Kay had started, a