ured a ten-year-old boom town in
the Mexican oil belt as a wilderness of rough shacks and board
sidewalks, with possibly a dancehall or two and an open-air movie as
the only attractions, and the thriving little city had proved a welcome
surprise.

"Limasito," he mused. "That means 'Little Lemon.' Wonder who tacked
that name to this burg? Peach of a town, I call it."

A long, low adobe house, tinted a screaming blue which rivaled the
skies, faced the southern end of the plaza, covering nearly an entire
block. As Thode jogged past, a door in the side wall opened, and a
girl appeared. She was tall with a lithe slenderness that betokened
well-poised strength rather than fragility. Masses of sloe-black hair
waved beneath the broad brim of her sombrero, but her skin was
unbelievably fair and the eyes she lifted to his in frank scrutiny were
the deep blue of a wood violet.

The young man caught his breath as she turned and started across the
plaza, walking with long, free, swinging strides.

"Peach of a town," he repeated, with added conviction. "All to the
good!"

The Calle Rivera dwindled into a dusty, white, winding road,
straggling, flower-choked gardens replaced the city blocks and gave way
in turn to haciendas whose flat fertile acres teemed with the luscious
harvest. The pinto covered the ground at an easy lope which ate up the
miles, and Thode sat his high Mexican saddle, as easy as a
rocking-chair, scanning each turn of the road for landmarks.

The sun was well upon its western course when he reined in at a low
stout gateway. A peon, lazily hoeing in the ditch, straightened his
bent back and eyed the stranger in mild curiosity.

"This Hallock's ranch?" Thode asked, laconically.

The peon nodded and waved a brown hand toward the house half hidden
among the trees.

"Senor Hallo', si, Senor."

The engineer wheeled and cantered up the winding driveway, with the
serried rows of grapefruit trees spreading out endlessly on either side
of the little rising where the square white ranch-house squatted, its
broad wings outstretched like those of a brooding hen.

In the shade of a mahogany tree, an excessively fat, excessively bald
person sprawled in a low chair by a rustic table, alternately sipping
from the tall glass at his elbow and mopping his ruddy glabrous brow
with a vivid bandanna.

He rose to his short legs as Thode swung himself from the saddle and
advanced.

"Mr. Hallock?"

"That's me, Str