t in your sweetheart. I'm
old enough to be her father, you know, and she touches me strangely.
Now, don't distrust me. I want to be a friend to you both. I want to
help you to be happy. Jack Locasto's not such a bad lot, as you'll find
when you know him. Is there anything I can do for you? What are you
going to do in this country?"

"I don't quite know yet," I said. "I hope to stake a good claim when the
chance comes. Meantime I'm going to get work on the creeks."

"You are?" he said thoughtfully; "do you know any one?"

"No."

"Well, I'll tell you what: I've got laymen working on my Eldorado claim;
I'll give you a note to them if you like."

I thanked him.

"Oh, that's all right," he said. "I'm sorry I played such a mean part in
the past, and I'll do anything in my power to straighten things out.
Believe me, I mean it. Your English friend gave me the worst drubbing of
my life, but three days after I went round and shook hands with him.
Fine fellow that. We opened a case of wine to celebrate the victory. Oh,
we're good friends now. I always own up when I'm beaten, and I never
bear ill-will. If I can help you in any way, and hasten your marriage to
that little girl there, well, you can just bank on Jack Locasto: that's
all."

I must say the man could be most conciliating when he chose. There was a
gravity in his manner, a suave courtesy in his tone, the heritage of his
Spanish forefathers, that convinced me almost in spite of my better
judgment. No doubt he was magnetic, dominating, a master of men. I
thought: there are two Locastos, the primordial one, the Indian, who had
assaulted me; and the dignified genial one, the Spaniard, who was
willing to own defeat and make amends. Why should I not take him as I
found him?

So, as he talked entertainingly to me, my fears were dissipated, my
suspicions lulled. And when we parted we shook hands cordially.

"Don't forget," he said; "if you want help bank on me. I mean it now, I
mean it."

* * * * *

'Twas early in the bright and cool of the morning when we started for
Eldorado, Jim and I. I had a letter from Locasto to Ribwood and Hoofman,
the laymen, and I showed it to Jim. He frowned.

"You don't mean to say you've palled up with that devil," he said.

"Oh, he's not so bad," I expostulated. "He came to me like a man and
offered me his hand in friendship. Said he was ashamed of himself. What
could I do? I've no reason to doubt his