The other man was tall and gaunt. He wore a black frock coat and gray trousers, a flowing tie, and a big diamond in the front of his pleated white shirt. His hair was a trifle long and a trifle thin on the crown. A mustache spread widely from his upper lip; and a wisp of pointed beard decorated his chin. This latter individual exploded a hearty laugh as McGlory recoiled and stared like a person in a trance. “Howdy, son?” barked the man in the long coat, sweeping down on the cowboy and seizing his hand. “Something of a surprise, hey? Lookin’ for Griggs, by gad, and you find me!” “Colonel!” gulped McGlory. “Speak to me about this! Why, I thought you were in Tucson?” “Made up my mind at the last minute that I’d better trek eastward and make sure the deal for the ‘Dream’ went through.” He slapped McGlory on the back. “A fortune, my boy, for all of us, by gad! The ‘Dream’s’ a bonanza--gold from the grass roots down. But present your friend; present your friend.” The colonel turned beamingly toward Matt. “My pard, Matt King,” said McGlory. “Everybody has heard of him, I reckon.” “You do me proud,” bubbled the colonel, seizing Matt’s hand and pumping his arm up and down. “A friend of McGlory’s is a friend of mine. Allow me”--and he turned toward Levitt, only to find Levitt leaning across the table, his jaws agape. “Well, well, well!” mumbled the colonel. “What’s flagged you, Levitt?” “We’ve met before,” grinned Levitt. “How’s that?” “These are the young fellows to whom I gave that confounded runabout.” “A conspiracy, by gad, to keep me from meeting McGlory! How’d you expect him to get here in a motor wagon you couldn’t run yourself?” “I didn’t know who the lads were, colonel, or I’d have been more considerate. But”--and here he turned to Matt--“how _did_ you do it?” “We had plenty of trouble with the machine,” said Matt, “but we made it bring us.” The situation was clearing. Levitt, at the time Matt and McGlory had met him that morning, was also on his way to the Malvern Country Club. “Re-markable!” cooed the colonel. “But it’s a terrible land for dust, ain’t it?” He poured something from the decanter into the glasses. “Irrigate!” he said. “Advance by file, my young friends, and refresh the inner man.” “None for me, colonel,” answered Matt, whose opinion of the colonel was dropping by swift degrees. “That’s the way I stack up, too, colonel,” grinned McGlory. The colonel looked horrified. “From Arizona, Joseph,” he murmured, “and you won’t indulge? Ex-traordinary, I must say. Smoke?” And he indicated the box of cigars. “No, colonel,” declined Matt. A sheepish look crossed McGlory’s face as he met the colonel’s inquiring eye. “I’m in line with my pard,” said he. “Astounding!” gasped the colonel. “Both habits are reprehensible--exceedingly so. I honor you highly, my lads, but--ahem!--your shining example is one by which I may not profit.” He turned to the mining engineer. “The fire-water is before us, Levitt,” said he; “charge!”