More than an hour had been spent in skirmishing preliminaries, but now Leach Sharkey was congratulating himself that he had got his man fixed just right. He was running over the final arrangements so as to make sure that everything was clearly understood. “Then Mr. Thurston and myself are to come to Comanche Point. You will take us from there to the place where we’ll find Willoughby. That’s the understanding, José?” Pierre nodded in acquiescence. “And you will bring wiz you ze reward of five tousand dollars—not gold or silver, remember, but treasury bills, for I am not strong enough now to carry a very heavy weight. Zen when you have paid me ze money, I will lead you to Mr. Willoughby.” “All right. I’m going to trust you and take my chances. But bear in mind that you don’t get away with the cash until I have actually put the handcuffs on the man I’m after.” “Oh, I will not run away, Mr. Sharkey.” “By God, if you try any monkey tricks on me, I’ll shoot you in your tracks. Make no mistake about that, José. And it will be hands up first to prove to me you have no gun.” “As I have promised,” replied Pierre with some dignity, “I shall come unarmed. But remember, Mr. Thurston and you must be alone. If zere are any ozers I will not show myself—I will give no sign.” “Don’t worry about that. We’ll be alone. I need no other protection than the two guns I always carry.” As he spoke, the sleuth slipped a hand to one of his hip pockets, and with a grim smile, laid a vicious-looking revolver on the table. Luzon evinced no disquietude; he merely smiled. “Mr. Sharkey he is ze famous man wiz ze two guns. I would take no risk wiz him. But I wish to win ze reward.” “Well, then, the reward is yours if you play the game straight. Thurston and I will be there, and you will be there unarmed. The hour?” “Four o’clock. I will watch you come to Comanche Point all alone along ze road.” “You’re certainly a cautious old duck,” laughed Sharkey. “However, that’s all right. Four o’clock, then. And you said Tuesday next week, didn’t you?” “Yes, Tuesday.” Sharkey glanced at a big advertisement calendar on the wall. “That will be the eleventh of the month. Then I think everything is understood. Now I want to be off. I can just catch the last car to Tejon. Shake. You can finish that drop of whisky by yourself, old man.” They shook hands and Sharkey was gone. The other waited for a few moments, cautiously and cunningly listening to the retreating footsteps. Then he sprang erect, transformed in an instant into a hale and vigorous man. Into his eyes there leapt a flash of joy, in his heart was a song of triumph. “So the villain Ben Thurston will be there at Comanche Point on the very anniversary of the night, just thirty years ago, when he committed that foul crime—at the very spot where the poor little Senorita Rosetta and her unborn babe perished at his hands. Glory be to God! At last the hour of vengeance comes!” CHAPTER XXX—Don Manuel Appears