and surmises, yet he could talk well when occasion demanded.

It was rumored that he was in the employ of the American Government;
that he had been disappointed in a love affair; that he had a wife and
son living somewhere in the States; that for very good reasons he could
not return to the States; that he was a dangerous man, well paid by the
Mexican Government to handle political matters that would not bear
public inspection. These rumors came to him from time to time, and
because he paid no attention to them they were accepted as facts.

About an hour after he had left Donovan's office, Waring entered the
Plaza Hotel, nodded to the clerk, and passed on down the hallway. He
knocked at a door, and was answered by the appearance of a stout,
smooth-shaven man in shirt-sleeves. They chatted for a minute or two.
Waring stepped into the room. Presently he reappeared, smiling.

After dinner he strolled out and down the street. At a corner he edged
through the crowd, and was striding on when some one touched his arm. He
turned to confront the Mexican youth, Ramon. Waring gestured to Ramon to
follow, and they passed on down the street until near the edge of the
town. In the shadow of an adobe, Waring stopped.

Ramon glanced up and down the street. "The police--they have asked me
where is my Uncle José. I have told them that I do not know. The police
they asked me that."

"Well?"

"But it is not that why I come. They told me to go to my home. It was
when I was in the prison that the policia talked in the telephone. He