her face was hard.

"My, but they're hittin' it up on Broadway about this time! Let's
see--it'll be about eleven--the theatres just lettin' out, crowds going up
and down and pouring into restaurants. Say, ain't it queer the difference
in people's lives? There's them sitting on plush and eating lobster, and
here's me looking into emptiness and half expecting to see a Yaqui
grinning at me from behind a bush! Hullo, you back?"

Scott, accompanied by Hard, came down the street again. Both seemed
disturbed.

"Well," remarked the former, grimly. "She's started."

"Started?" Mrs. Van rose. "What do you mean by that?"

"I got Jack Morgan's mother on the 'phone," said Scott. "Seems she'd been
trying to get us. The girl got into Conejo about six--just after our train
pulled out--tried to get us on the 'phone and couldn't; so she got a
machine and is on the way over."

"Got a machine!" Mrs. Van gasped. "Are the Morgans crazy?"

"Jack and his wife have gone over to Mescal with their car and there's
nobody home but the old lady and the youngsters. Old lady Morgan's deaf
and hollers over the wire so I couldn't get much of what she said,"
continued Scott, ruefully. "I made up my mind that she'd got old Mendoza
to bring her over in his Ford. Guess it's up to me to harness up and go
over to meet them."

"I should say so. That girl must be scared to death if nothing worse has
happened to her."

"Nothing worse will happen to her with Mendoza--unless he runs her into an
arroyo. Mendoza's principles are better than his eyesight. But, believe
me, she deserves to be scared. It might put a little sense into her."

"Shall I drive over with you?" queried Hard.

"No, but you might help Mrs. Van move our things down to Jimmy's. I
thought we'd put her in our shack, Mrs. Van, and you could come up and
stay with her." And Scott swung off into the direction of the corral.

The other two proceeded to the company house, as the superintendent's
quarters were called.

"Well," said the lady, as they began to pack the two men's belongings, "I
expected to get this house ready for a bride and groom but I must say I
wasn't looking for a lone woman. And yet if I'd had my wits about me I
might have known. Only last night Dolores and me were running the Ouija
and it says--look out for trouble--just as plain as that!"

"I shouldn't call her anything as bad as that," said Hard, crossing to
where the photograph of Polly Street hung over the fireplac