stockings.
A few minutes later she stood in the doorway, a dark sweater drawn over
her lacy waist, her plaid skirt blowing in the breeze, and her vivid hair
covered only with a net. The air was cool and bracing, the sun just
beginning to be a bit warm, the mountains emerging from behind fleecy
clouds, and the sky as blue as that of Italy.

"Not bad, eh?" Hard stopped beside her, thinking how her splendid youth
and vibrant coloring harmonized with the surroundings.

"Not bad at all," laughed the girl. "You only need a few wild looking
Mexicans prowling about to give a touch of life."

Hard pointed toward the mine. Some dark-skinned men wearing big straw
sombreros were running a hand car up the track while another group lounged
in a doorway.

"There are your Mexicans, but I'm afraid they're too lazy to be very wild.
Nothing but a revolution excites them these days and sometimes I think
they're getting a bit blase over them. Now and then they wake up over a
cock-fight." They walked down the street toward the boarding-house.

"I wish, Mr. Hard, that you would tell me something about the young man
who drove me over last night," the girl said.

"Who? Scotty?"

"No," a little indignantly. "I mean Senor Pachuca. Oh, I forgot that I
hadn't told you!"

"Scott told me. He and I thought, if you don't mind, that we wouldn't say
anything about it before the others. I mean about his being in the
neighborhood."

"I won't if you don't want me to," replied Polly, with unusual docility.
"But please tell me about him. Mr. Scott didn't seem to want to."

"Well, no, Scotty didn't want to frighten you, I suppose."

"Frighten me? As if I was that kind of girl!"

"It's just a little difficult these days to know what one may or may not
tell a young lady," smiled Hard. "But about Johnny Pachuca. A good many
people call him 'Don Juan'--I don't know whether it's because he claims to
be of pure Spanish blood, or whether it's a subtle recognition of his
popularity with the ladies."

"Oh!"

"A few years ago, he was a captain or a colonel or something equally fancy
in the army. He's a dashing young scamp, and he had the good luck or the
bad luck whatever you want to call it to engage the affections of a
good-looking young actress who was supposed to be bestowing those
affections on a man higher up. Naturally, the man higher up looked about
for a way of getting even. He dug up a scandal about some army funds.
Young Pachuca had been doi