of El Toro."

"I have grown old hunting that fellow's assets, Miguel, my boy," quoth
Don Nicolás. "If I can levy on a healthy bank-account, I shall feel that
my life has not been lived in vain."

He folded his newspaper, uncoiled his leg from the pommel, and started up
the street at the dignified fast walk he had taught his mount. Farrel
returned to the car and, with Kay, arrived before the portals of the bank
a few minutes in advance of the sheriff, just in time to see Andre
Loustalot leap from his automobile, dash up the broad stone steps, and
fairly hurl himself into the bank.

"I don't know whether I ought to permit him to withdraw his money and
have Don Nicolás attach it on his person or not. Perhaps that would be
dangerous," Miguel remarked. He stepped calmly out of the car, assisted
Kay to alight, and, with equal deliberation, entered the bank with the
girl.

"Now for some fun," he whispered. "Behold the meanest man in
America--myself!"

Loustalot was at the customers' desk writing a check to cash for his
entire balance in bank. Farrel permitted him to complete the drawing of
the check, watched the Basque almost trot toward the paying-teller's
window, and as swiftly trotted after him.

"All--everything!" Loustalot panted, and reached over the shoulders of
two customers in line ahead of him. But Don Miguel Farrel's arm was
stretched forth also; his long brown fingers closed over the check and