Mr. Guise of Slow Down Ranch owes me," the old man said without any
formal salutation. He was evidently not good-humoured.

At sight of Mazarine, Burlingame at once accepted the general verdict
concerning him. That, however, would not prejudice him greatly.
Burlingame had no moral sense. Mazarine's face might revolt him,
but not his character.

"I've got the cash here for you, and I'll have in a witness and hand the
money over at once," he said: "The receipt is ready. I assume you are
Joel Mazarine," he added, in a weak attempt at being humorous.

"Get on with the business, Mister," said the old man surlily.

In a few moments he had the six thousand dollars in good government
notes in two inner pockets of his shirt. It made him feel very warm
and comfortable. His face almost relaxed into a smile when he bade
Burlingame good-day.

Burlingame had said nothing about the letter from the late Michael
Turley's kinsman in Montreal and the question of the legacy. This was
deliberate on his part. He wanted an excuse to visit Tralee and see its
mistress with his own eyes. He had attempted to pluck many flowers in
his day, and had not been unsuccessful. Out at Tralee was evidently a
rare orchid carefully shielded by the gardener.

As Mazarine left the lawyer's office, he met in the doorway that member
of the McMahon family for whom Burlingame had secured a verdict of
acquittal a couple of hours before. As was his custom, Mazarine gave
the other a sharp, scrutinizing look, but he saw no one he knew; and he