n Fleckenstein's name."

Murphy looked at Jim, then out at the irrigating ditch along which the
machine was moving slowly. "Boss," he said, "go ahead if it'll ease you
up any, but you might as well try to fight a hydrophobia skunk with a
perfume atomizer as to try them high-brow methods on Fleckenstein."

Jim laughed. "Well, do you know of a better method, Murphy?"

"Yes, the good, old-fashioned way of putting up more whisky, more money
and more free rides than the other fellow does."

Jim turned the machine back toward the power station. "Of course, you
know that that is out of the question, Murphy."

"Well, what do you want me to do, Boss?" asked Murphy.

"Tomorrow is Sunday," said Jim. "I want you to come up to my house and
discuss with me the characteristics of every man in the valley. I don't
know anyone better qualified to know them."

"I'll be there," said Murphy, climbing from the machine. He watched Jim
drive away. "There's something about him that gets under my skin," said
the ex-saloonkeeper. "I'll be holding his hand, next. Poor snoozer!
Think of him trying to fight mud like Fleckenstein. But I'll back him if
it'll relieve his mind any."

Jim was back at the dam by mid-afternoon. He found Pen with Mrs. Flynn
in the shining little kitchen of his adobe.

"Penelope," he said, "is there any way we can rob Sara of his poison
fangs? Certainly sending him away will do little good. I have been
thinking of giving him his choice of being under espionage or of being
turned over to the government. I've played with him, Pen, a little too
long. Now that it's too late, I'm going to lock the door."

Mrs. Flynn looked frightened. She never had seen this expression on
Jim's face before. The scowl between his eyes was deep, his jaw was
tense and his eyes were too large and too bright. But Pen's face flushed
eagerly.

"You are angry at last, Jimmy! Thank heaven for that! We can watch Sara,
easily, if you will use your authority. And oh, I do so want to stay and
help! Your temper is touched at last, Jim. I am thankful to Freet for
that."

Jim nodded grimly. "Will you go over to the tent with me? Or had I
better have it out with Sara alone?"

"Neither," said Pen. "I'll settle him myself. I feel like having a scrap
with someone. What else are you going to do, Still? Shall you report
Freet?"

"That's out of the question. Freet is the least of my troubles, anyhow.
I'll tell you all my plans." He looked from Mrs. Fly