brought the car to a stop and clambered out. Passing forward into
the illumination of the headlights, he busied himself there for
several moments before resuming his journey.

For the first time in a long while Calvin Gray was thoroughly enjoying
himself. Here was an enterprise with all the possibilities of a
first-class adventure, and of the sort, moreover, that he was
peculiarly qualified to cope with. It possessed enough hazard to lend
it the requisite zest, it was sufficiently unusual to awaken his
keenest interest; he experienced an agreeable exaltation of spirit,
but no misgivings whatever as to the outcome, for he held the
commanding cards. Little remained, it seemed to him, except to play
them carefully and to take the tricks as they fell. He had not the
slightest notion of permitting Mallow to lay hands upon that case of
jewels.

There was no mistaking the road, but Gray did not bother to stick
to the main-traveled course when detours or short cuts promised
better going, for he knew full well that Mallow would be waiting,
if at all, in some place he was bound to pass. It was an ideal
country for a holdup; lonely and lawless. Derrick lights twinkled
over the mesquite tops, and occasionally the flaming red mouth of
some boiler gaped at him, or the foliage was illuminated by the
glare of gas flambeaux--vertical iron pipes at the ends of which
the surplus from neighboring wells was consumed in what seemed a
reckless wastage. Occasionally, too, a belated truck thundered
past, but the traffic was pretty thin.

At last, however, he beheld some distance ahead the white glare of
two stationary lights. The road was narrow and sandy here, and