good opinion of himself.

"I'm going back to have a smoke," said the man, presently. "Will you
come and join me?"

"Thank you, but neither of us smokes," answered Roger.

"What! not even cigarettes?"

"No," returned Dave.

"Humph! I don't see how you can resist. I would feel utterly lost
without a cigar. Well, I'll see you later." And thus speaking William
Jarvey took himself off.

"I sincerely trust the rest of the men we meet will be of a better
sort than that fellow," remarked Roger. "I don't like his make-up at
all."

"I agree with you, Roger," answered Dave. "He looks like a chap who
would be very dictatorial if he had the chance--one of the kind who
loves to ride over those under him."

"I can't get over the way he kept looking at you, Dave. He acted as if
he had met you before and was trying to place you."

"I noticed he did look at me pretty closely a number of times,"
answered our hero. "But I took it that he was only trying to size me
up. You know some strangers have that habit."

"Well, he didn't look at me that way," continued the senator's son. "I
believe he was doing his best to try to place you."

"I wish I had asked him where he was from. Maybe that might have given
us some sort of clue to his identity."

"Let's ask him if we get the chance."

On the journey to San Antonio they had an opportunity to speak to
William Jarvey a number of times, and once they sat at the same table
with him in the dining-car. When asked where he came from, he replied
rather evasively that he had lived for a great number of years in the
Northwest, but that he had left that section of the country to try his
fortunes in Mexico.

"I was interested in the mines down there, and then I got mixed up in
one of their revolutions and got shot in the leg," he added. "That
was enough for me; so I crossed the Rio Grande into Texas, and by
luck got the position I am now holding with the Mentor Company."

"Are the Mexican revolutionists interfering at all with the work of
the construction company near the border?" questioned Dave.

"Not very much. One gang, that was working on one of the railroad
bridges not many miles from the Rio Grande, had a little run-in with
some raiders who came across the river to steal cattle. They helped
the ranchmen drive the raiders away, and in the fight one fellow was
shot through the shoulder."

"Well, that was trouble enough!" cried Roger. "It's more than I'd like
to see."

"That's ri