ue eyes,
pathetically misted, could only be found in the mountain-desert.

One morning into the inner sanctum of this dignitary stepped a man
built in rectangles, a square face, square, ponderous shoulders, and
even square-tipped fingers. Into the smiling haze of Hardy's face his
own keen black eye sparkled like an electric lantern flashed into a
dark room. He was dressed in the cowboy's costume, but there was no
Western languor in his make-up. Everything about him was clear cut
and precise. He had a habit of clicking his teeth as he finished a
sentence. In a word, when he appeared in the doorway Lee Hardy woke
up, and before the stranger had spoken a dozen words the agent was
leaning forward to be sure that he would not miss a syllable.

"You're Lee Hardy, aren't you?" said he, and his eyes gave the
impression of a smile, though his lips did not stir after speaking.

"I am," said the agent.

"Then you're the man I want to see. If you don't mind--"

He closed the door, pulled a chair against it, and then sat down, and
folded his arms. Very obviously he meant business. Hardy switched his
position in his chair, sitting a little more to the right, so that the
edge of the seat would not obstruct the movement of his hand towards
the holster on his right thigh.

"Well," he said good naturedly, "I'm waitin'."

"Good," said the stranger, "I won't keep you here any longer than is
necessary. In the first place my name is Tex Calder."

Hardy changed as if a slight layer of dust had been sifted over his
face. He stretched out his hand.

"It's great to see you, Calder," he said, "of course I've heard
about you. Everyone has. Here! I'll send over to the saloon for some
red-eye. Are you dry?"

He rose, but Calder waved him back to the swivel-chair.

"Not dry a bit," he said cheerily. "Not five minutes ago I had a drink
of--water."

"All right," said Hardy, and settled back into his chair.

"Hardy, there's been crooked work around here."

"What in hell--"

"Get your hand away from that gun, friend."

"What the devil's the meaning of all this?"

"That's very well done," said Calder. "But this isn't the stage. Are
we going to talk business like friends?"

"I've got nothing agin you," said Hardy testily, and his eyes followed
Calder's right hand as if fascinated. "What do you want to say? I'll
listen. I'm not very busy."

"That's exactly it," smiled Tex Calder, "I want you to get busier."

"Thanks."

"In the fi