seemed to recognize him, made way for him with a singular deference that
impressed Ezekiel, already dominated by his manner. The first perception
in his mind was that Blandford had in some strange way succeeded to
Demorest's former imperious character. There was no trace left of the
old, gentle subjection to Joan's prim precision. Ezekiel followed him
out of the office as unresistingly as he had followed Demorest into the
stables on that eventful night. They passed down the narrow street until
Blandford suddenly stopped short and turned into the crumbling doorway
of one of the low adobe buildings and entered an apartment. It seemed
to be the ordinary living-room of the house, made more domestic by
the presence of a silk counterpaned bed in one corner, a prie Dieu and
crucifix, and one or two articles of bedchamber furniture. A woman
was sitting in deshabille by the window; a man was smoking on a lounge
against the wall. Blandford, in the same peremptory manner, addressed
a command in Spanish to the inmates, who immediately abandoned the
apartment to the seeming trespasser.

Motioning his companion to a seat on the lounge just vacated, Blandford
folded his arms and stood erect before him.

"Well," he said, with quick, business conciseness, "what do you want?"

Ezekiel was staggered out of his complacency.

"Wa'al," he stammered, "I only reckoned to ask the news, ez we are old
friends--I--"

"How much do you want?" repeated Blandford, impatiently.

Ezekiel was mystified, yet expectant. "I can't say ez I exakly