f you had a drop of human blood--now what are you
grinning for--and trying to hide it? Dad Selmer, you do make me
perfectly furious at times!"

Mary V laid hands upon her father and for his shortcomings she
"woolled" him until his grizzled hair stood straight on end. Sudden
protested, tried to hold her off at arm's length and found her all
claws, like an excited wildcat.

"Now, now--"

"Tell me then what you are going to do. And don't try to make me
believe you only care for that horrid note. Every time I think of you
making that poor boy sign over everything he had on earth, except me,
of course, and you wouldn't let him have me when he wanted--why, dad, I
could shake you till--"

Bland was edging to the door. He had no experience with families and
domestic upheavals, and he did not know just how serious this quarrel
might prove. He expected Sudden to order Mary V from the house--to
disown her, at the very least. He did not want to be a witness when
Sudden broke loose. But Sudden called him back and turned to Mary V.

"Here, let me go. You're scaring off the only evidence we've got that
Johnny landed here. You stay right here and behave yourself, young
lady. I might want to 'phone you, if I get a clue--"

"Oh, dad! Cross your heart you'll 'phone the very instant you find out
anything? Here's your hat--do, for gracious sake, hurry!"

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

JOHNNY IS NOT PAID TO THINK

On that same Saturday afternoon, at about the time when Mary V sighted
Bland at the southeast corner of Sixth and Spring, Johnny stood just
under the peak behind Mateo's cabin and saw a lone horseman ride across
the upper neck of the little valley and disappear into the brush on the
side opposite him. He waited impatiently. The rider did not reappear,
but presently he saw what looked like a human figure crouched behind a
rock well up the slope. Johnny stared until his eyes watered with the
strain, but he could not be sure that the object was a man. If it
were, the man was without a doubt placed there for purposes of
observation. The thought was not a pleasant one.

He waited, himself crouched now behind a jutting fragment of rock, and
thought he saw the object move. A little later the sun, sliding
farther down the sky, reflected a glittering something just above that
rock. A bit of glass would do that--the lenses of a field glass, for
instance. Two lenses would shine as one, Johnny believed, and was
tha