ow.

When at last Barlow came Kendric knew on the instant what success
Zoraida had had with him. Twisty's eyes were shining; his head was up;
he walked briskly like a man with his plans made and his heart in them.

"You poor boob," muttered Kendric disgustedly. "Once you let a woman
get her knife in your heart you're done for."

Barlow swept up the brandy bottle and filled a glass brim full.

"To Zoraida, Queen of Lower California!" he cried ringingly. He drank
and smashed the glass upon the floor.

Kendric sighed and shook his head hopelessly. And thanked God that he
had never been the man to go mad over a pretty face.

CHAPTER VIII

HOW A MAN MAY CARRY A MESSAGE AND NOT KNOW HIMSELF TO BE A MESSENGER

"There's no call for bad blood between you and me, Jim," said Barlow,
plainly ill at his ease. "We've always been friends; let's stay
friends. If we can't pull together in the deal that's comin', why,
let's just split our trail two ways and let it go at that."

"Fair enough," cried Kendric heartily. His companion thrust out a
hand; Kendric took it warmly. Barlow looked relieved.

"And," continued the sailor, "there's no sense forgettin' what we ran
into this port for in the first place. There's the loot; no matter how
or when we come at it, both together or single, we split it even?"

"Fair again. The old-time Barlow talking."

"All I've held out on you, Jim, is the exact location, so far as I know
it. I'll spill that to you now, best I can. Then you can play out
your string your way and I can play it out my way. As Juarez tipped me
off, you've got three peaks to sail by; whether it's the three we saw
first or the ones right off here, back of the house, I don't know any
more than you do. But it ought to be easy tellin' when a man's on the
spot. The middle peak ought to be a good fifty feet higher than the
others and flat lookin' on top. In a ravine, between the tall boy and
the one at the left, Juarez said there was a lot of scrub trees and
brush. He said plow through the brush, keepin' to the up edge when you
can get to it, until you come to about the middle of the patch. There
a man would find a lot of loose rock, boulders that looked like they'd
slid off the mountain. This rock, and the Lord knows how much of it
there is, covers the hole that the old priest's writin' said that loot
was in. And that's the yarn, every damn' word of it."

"If it's the place back of the house," sa