I don't suppose you want me out here."

"On the contrary, I greatly enjoy seeing you here," Tom declared. "I'm
very grateful for the praise you offered me a moment ago."

"You're welcome," returned the Colthwaite agent, trying hard to smile.
"However, I won't take up your time. Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, then," nodded Tom. "Drop in again, won't you? Any time
within working hours."

"Confound that fellow Reade!" muttered Ransom angrily as he rode back to
Paloma. "He knows altogether too much--or suspects it. I shall have to
call Jim Duff's attention to him!"

"Why did you string the fellow so?" asked Harry when the chums were
alone once more.

"I didn't," Reade retorted. "I came very close to giving him straight
information."

"Now he'll be more on his guard."

"That won't do him any good," Tom yawned. "He has been on his guard
all along, yet we found him out. For that matter, any man who lives
regularly at the Mansion House these days is open to our suspicion."

For the Mansion House, ever since Tom's having been ordered away, had
been a losing proposition. Now and then a traveling salesman stopped
there, though not many.

"By the way, Harry," predicted Tom, as the chums were riding back to
Paloma at the close of the afternoon, "look out, in about three of four
days, for a new and permanent guest at the Cactus House."

"Who's coming?" inquired Hazelton.

"Whatever man the Colthwaite Company decides to send to the Cactus House
as soon as headquarters in Chicago receives Ransom's report. I think
we'll know that new chap, too, when he shows up. Also, you'll find that
the new man is either an avowed enemy of Ransom, after a little, or else
he won't choose to know Ransom at all."

"That's pretty wild guessing," scoffed Harry Hazelton.

"Wait three or four days, and see whether it's guessing or one of the
fine fruits of logic," proposed Reade. "Incidentally, the Colthwaite
people will wonder why it didn't occur to them before to send one of
their gloom men to live at the Cactus. Fact is, I've been looking for
the chap for more than a fort-night."

CHAPTER XII. HOW THE TRAP WAS BAITED

It was the evening of the day after Harry, who had insisted on trudging
up and down the line all day, instead of using his horse, had a touch of
heat headache.

He was not in a serious condition, but he needed rest. He dropped into
one of the chairs on the Cactus House porch and prepared to doze.

"Is there