in his life; but at night, after he had gone to bed and adjusted the
electric light at his head, and his green eyeshade, and had put two
pillows under the back of his neck, he read--you will scarcely believe
it, but it is true--he read about the James boys and Kit. Carson and
Pawnee Bill, and he could tell you--only he wouldn't mention it, of
course--just how many Texans were killed in the Alamo. He loved gun
catalogues, and he frequently went out of his way to pass a store that
displayed real, business-looking stock-saddles and quirts and spurs and
things. He longed to be down in Mexico in the thick of the scrap there,
and he knew every prominent Federal leader and every revolutionist that
got into the papers; knew them by spelling at least, even if he couldn't
pronounce the names correctly.

He had come to Albuquerque for his lungs' sake a few years ago, and he
still thrilled at the sight of bright-shawled Pueblo Indians padding
along the pavements in their moccasins and queer leggings that looked
like joints of whitewashed stove-pipe; while to ride in an automobile
out to Isleta, which is a terribly realistic Indian village of adobe
huts, made the blood beat in his temples and his fingers tremble upon
his knees. Even Martinez Town with its squatty houses and narrow streets
held for him a peculiar fascination.

You can imagine, maybe, how his weak eyes snapped with excitement under
that misleading green shade when Luck Lindsay walked in and smiled at
him through the wicket, and explained who he was and what was the favor
he had come to ask of the bank. You can, perhaps, imagine how he stood
and made little marks on a blotter with his pencil while Luck explained
just what he would want; and how he clung to the noncommittal manner
which is a cashier's professional shield, while Luck smiled his smile
to cover his own feeling of doubt and stated that he merely wanted two
Mexicans to enter, presumably overpower the cashier, and depart with a
bag or two of gold.

The cashier made a few more pencil marks and said that it might be
arranged, if Luck could find it convenient to make the picture just
after the bank's closing time. Obviously the cashier could not permit
the bank's patrons to be disturbed in any way--but what he really wanted
was to have the thrill of the adventure all to himself.

With the two of them anxious to have the pictured robbery take place,
of course they arranged it after a polite sparring on the par