A single man leaned over the bar, slowly consuming a bottle of near-beer and talking with the white-aproned proprietor. He was a dusty man, a withered, sun-browned, sand-smitten specimen of desert rat, and was palpably the owner of the two burros tethered outside the entrance. "Ice cream," ordered Murray, ranging up alongside the prospector. "Have a dish, partner?" "Thanks," rejoined the other, nodding assent. "Sure. As I was sayin', Bill, it was the gosh-willingest thing I ever struck! Think o 'me purposin' mattermony, right off the bat like that--and a good-lookin' girl, I'm sayin'! And when she was feelin' around for the right words to accept me, prob'ly meanin' to fish around an' make me urge her a mite, I seen her ol' man come walkin' along. In about two shakes I seen he was a chink." "Yes?" The proprietor tipped Murray a wink, and set forth the ice cream. "What then?" "I faded right prompt," said the desert rat. "Right prompt! I dunno--it kind o' dazed me fer a spell. When I got into Two Palms next day, I was tellin' Piute Tomkins about it, and he up an' says them two was stayin' at his hotel--the chink and the girl, which same bein' his daughter, he allowed it was all right an' proper. I judge Piute was soakin' them right heavy, else he wouldn't ha' stood for chinks boardin' on him. Piute has his pride----" "And he got a pocketbook likewise," put in the proprietor. "I know _him_, I do! Piute would skin his grandmother for a dime. What's the chink doin' over to Two Palms?" "Damfino," rejoined the desert rat. "Piute don't know, an' if he don't, who does?" "Where's Two Palms?" inquired Murray, who had been absorbing this information with interest. "Near here?" "Near and far," said the proprietor. "Near in mileage, but far in distance, so to speak. It ain't nothin' but a waterhole at the back door o' creation. Ain't goin' there, I hope?" "Heading that way," said Murray. "What's there?" "Well they got a bank, or did have, unless she's broke by now; and a hotel and a few other things. If I was you I'd go somewheres else." "Where?" "It don't matter particular--anywheres." Murray grinned. "You seem to have a down on Two Palms, partner. What's the idea?" "Well, they's a close corporation there, a bunch of oldtimers that's mostly related and don't take much stock in outsiders, if you savvy. Nothin' there but desert. Stage runs up there once a week with the mail, which same if it wasn't contracted for wouldn't go." "What's this about the chink and the girl?" put in Hobbs. "Sounds queer." "If you ask me, it is queer!" said the desert rat, with some profanity to boot. "They come through here, I remember 'em," spoke up the proprietor, leaning on the bar. "Darned pretty girl, too. Mebbe he's _mining_." "Piute said not." "Oh!" exclaimed Hobbs quickly. "Are there mines around Two Palms? Gee! Say, doc, let's get us a mine!" "Might do anything," said Murray sardonically. "Want to find it or buy it?"