"Why, Deadoak!" rejoined Piute. "At least, he done so a couple of days ago, and I reckon still does." "Where is he?" "I dunno. Went off to Meteorite yes'day. He'll be back soon enough." "If you'll send him to me, Mr. Tomkins, I'll appreciate it greatly." "Certain, certain," and Piute backed out, pausing in the corridor to mop his beaded brow. Tom Lee had been to Morongo Valley and had found something. Mackintavers had been deluded into buying the property." "Plague take it!" said Piute. "If Deadoak was here now!" Late that night, Deadoak staggered into the hotel and fell upon the neck of Piute Tomkins with tears,--metaphorically speaking. Curses were nearer the truth. "He done beat us to it!" sorrowed Deadoak, rolling a cigarette while Piute rustled him a cup of coffee in the kitchen. "He done grabbed the minin' rights, Piute----" "Let it go!" exclaimed Piute energetically. "Listen here, now----" He expounded the interview with Tom Lee. "That there chink has found somethin'!" he declared with vigor. "You chase up to his room an' see if he wants to buy the place." "Ding my dogs, Piute! I can't sell that there place no more--she don't belong to me!" "If he wants it, get an offer. If it's enough, buy it back from Mackintavers!" Deadoak protested. He was saddle-galled and weary, disconsolate and disgusted, and he had no heart for intrigue. Piute Tomkins goaded him to it, however, and sent him despite protests to the room of Tom Lee. Fifteen minutes later, Deadoak stumbled downstairs to the office where Piute awaited him. He dropped limply into a chair. "Well?" snapped Piute. "Ain't no well--nothin' but a dry hole," mourned Deadoak. "That there chink offered--or rather, I brung him up to offer--five thousand cash for the place. Ding my dogs! If only we hadn't acted so preceptous with that there pilgrim! I ain't never knowed what real remorse was until right now----" "Well, saddle up an' beat it to Morongo Valley pronto," exclaimed Piute. "Buy back----" "Not me! I done had enough ridin' to last my mortal lifetime----" "You're goin', and you're goin' in the morning!" asserted Piute emphatically. "Savvy? See what that there chink found--trail him down! I got no use for yeller men cheatin' honest citizens out o' their rights. You're goin', understand?" Deadoak assented weakly that he understood. Presently, however, he rallied again. "Now, Piute, show some sense!" he pleaded. "Ain't you jest said that the chink and this Doc Murray were out together? Well, they framed up the deal on us, that's all; the doc got the chink to----" "You're a plumb fool, Deadoak," exclaimed Piute scornfully. "Why, the deal hadn't been put through when Murray went out to 'tend to the chink! 'Course, it might ha' been framed up since; all these here pilgrims seem a durn sight smarter'n you'd think for. I tell ye what----"