looking for Bob’s sister. I guess you must be her,” replied Scott. “Well, who are you?” he added, as Juan Pachuca’s legs emerged from the car, followed by his body.

“It’s not Mendoza—he’s sick,” volunteered Polly. “It’s a gentleman who was in the train and who kindly drove me over. Where is my brother?”

“Your letter only came to-night,” stammered Scott, “and in the same mail we had one from your brother in Douglas, saying he had been called East——”

“East!” The blow was too sudden; Polly’s legs collapsed. She sat down on the running-board of the machine and gasped. In the meantime Juan Pachuca stepped to the buckboard.

“It is Señor Scott?” he said pleasantly. “We have met before.”

Scott surveyed him thoughtfully. “Well, by the Lord, if it ain’t Johnny Pachuca! Of all the nerve——”

“Exactly,” grinned Pachuca, appreciatively. “You are surprised, eh? What are you going to do about it?”

“That depends upon how you’ve treated the young lady,” said Marc, quietly, “and on your general behavior,” he added, with a reciprocal grin.

“Haven’t I told you that he was kind enough to drive me over?” said Polly, impatiently. “And if——” 60

60

“That being the case,” replied Scott, “I don’t know as there’s anything I can do except say much obliged, and keep my eye on my horse-flesh. If you’ll get into the wagon, Miss ——”

“Oh, he’s all right,” said Pachuca, airily, as the girl hesitated. “He’s the manager of the Athens mine—Marc Scott—a very decent fellow. I regret being deprived of your company, señorita, but he evidently intends to take you back with him.”

“Any baggage?” demanded Scott, gruffly.

“One trunk,” replied Polly, rather dazed by the suddenness of the affair. “But it’s back at Conejo.”

“Want any help with that car?”

“No, thank you, the young lady and I have remedied the trouble.”

“Of course there’s no use in my asking if there’s any particular reason for your being in this neighborhood, Pachuca?”

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