why I say he will kill you; I really believe he would do it."

"So do I," I agreed, grimly. "However, let's drop that for right now.
Do you know a man named Brower, Artie Brower?"

"I don't think I ever heard of him. Why?"

"Never mind for a minute. I've just had a great thought strike me. Just
let me alone a few moments while I work it out."

I lighted a second cigarette from the butt of the first and fell into a
study. Cortinez breathed heavily outside. Otherwise the silence was as
dead as the blackness of the night. The smoke from my cigarettes floated
lazily until it reached the influence of the hot air from the lamp; then
it shot upward toward the ceiling. The girl watched me from under her
level brows, always with that air of controlled restraint I found so
admirable.

"I've got it," I said at last, "--or at least I think I have. Now listen
to me, and believe what I've got to say. Here are the facts: first, your
father and Hooper split partnership a while back. Hooper took his share
entirely in cash; your father took his probably part in cash, but
certainly all of the ranch and cattle. Get that clear? Hooper owns no
part of the ranch and cattle. All right. Your father dies before the
papers relating to this agreement are recorded. Nobody knew of those
papers except your father and Hooper. So if Hooper were to destroy those
papers, he'd still have the cash that had been paid him, and an equal
share in the property. That plain?"

"Perfectly," she replied, composedly. "Why didn't he destroy them?"