winning system.” “It’s all very well for you to make fun of things you don’t know any more about than a baby, Jim Adams.” Mrs. Van’s scorn was intense. “If you’d read that article I showed you in the magazine about 21 the man that talked to his mother-in-law by the Ouija——” 21 “Mother-in-law? Great guns, is that the best the thing can do?” The reply was cut short by the entrance of the train gang, hot and hungry, clamoring for food. “How’s Conejo?” “Sand-storm. Windy as a parson. Say, you fellows eat up all the pie?” Conversation was suspended while the demands of hunger were satisfied, and Scott distributed the mail which the late comers had brought. “From Bob?” Hard looked up from his Boston paper as Scott grunted over his letter. Scott nodded and then as the others looked their curiosity, he read the brief note aloud. “Dear Scotty: Dear Scotty “Have just had a summons from the directors to go East at once; guess they’re uneasy about something they’ve heard and want first-hand information. Emma and I are starting for Chicago to-morrow. Open all mail and wire anything important. “Bob.” Bob “Just what I said they’d ought to do,” breathed Mrs. Van, happily. “Well, that girl’s got a good husband—I’ll say she has.” “Directors would be a heap more uneasy if they knew what we know,” remarked Williams, sententiously. “Hear anything more about the Chihuahua troops bein’ ordered in, Johnson?” “Nope,” replied the engineer, his mouth full of pie. 22 “Everybody crawled into their holes in Conejo. Didn’t you never see a sand-storm, Jack?” 22 “I wish I’d known he was going to Chicago. I’d have asked him to look in on my girl,” said Jimmy, folding up his letter. “I don’t like the way she writes—all jazz and picture shows. Some cuss is trying to cut me out with her.” “More likely she’s heard about you and the little Mexican over to Conejo,” remarked the
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