Is it funny?" she asked.

"Not for Bob," still vindictively amused.

"I suppose something's gone wrong with her contract with Sweeney, and he
can hold her to it, or else have the law on her," ventured Mrs. Gallito.
"That's all I can think of to stir them up so."

"I guess that must be it," agreed Hanson. "Eh, Lolita?"

"Here comes Gallito now." She leaned forward suddenly, shielding her
eyes with her hand. "Yes, it's him, sure. Why, I thought he'd gone to
the mines and wouldn't be back to-day."

Gallito was riding slowly toward the house, his head bent, his frowning
gaze fixed before him. Nevertheless, he had seen his wife's guest, and,
after taking his horse back to the stable, he made his appearance on the
porch. He shook hands with Hanson with his usual punctilious courtesy,
and then, turning to Mrs. Gallito, remarked without ceremony:

"Mr. Hanson and I have business matters to discuss and you have duties
within; but first bring the small table, the cognac and some glasses."

His wife wasted no time in doing his bidding, setting forth the articles
required with a timid and practiced celerity. But even after the brandy
had been tasted and praised by Hanson, and his appreciation of it
accepted with a grave Spanish bow by Gallito, the latter had made no
move to open the conversation, but had insisted upon his guest trying
his cigarettes and giving an opinion upon their merits.

Again Hanson was complaisant, extolling them as worthy to accompany the
cognac, and after that a silence fell between them. Gallito sat puffing
his cigarette, watching with half closed eyes the smoke wreaths curl
upward, while Hanson waited patiently, smoking his cigarette in turn
with an admirable show of indifference.

"The old fox!" thought he scornfully. "Does he hope to bluff me into
giving myself away?"

Finally Gallito spoke, directly and to the point, surprising the other
man, in spite of himself, by a most unexpected lack of diplomatic
subterfuge and subtlety.

"I received a letter from Sweeney yesterday," he drew it slowly from his
pocket, "and he doubles his offer to my daughter, making her salary,
practically, what you are willing to pay her. Now, Mr. Hanson, your
offer is very fine. I appreciate it; my daughter appreciates it; but she
cannot accept it. She treated Sweeney badly, very badly. She is an
untaught child, headstrong, wilful," his brow darkened, "but she must
learn that a contract is a contract." He took anothe