“However, I have an appointment with Mr. Dickover at ten o’clock, and have good reason to believe—” There came a sudden interruption—from the stranger. “I beg your pardon,” he said, stepping forward. “Of course I couldn’t help overhearing your dictation, sir. May I ask if you are Mr. Robert Bowen of Tonopah?” Bowen gave him a slow stare. “I am.” “By George! It’s lucky I met you, then. I arrived from Tonopah myself a couple of days ago, and have been trying to connect with you. My name’s Henderson. While at Tonopah I looked over your holdings, among others; and if you’d consider an offer on them—” Bowen drew a cigar from his pocket, bit off the end, and lighted it. He surveyed Henderson with indecision. “I don’t know you, Mr. Henderson,” he observed coolly. “I don’t want to sell those two properties, but I happen to need cash—in a hurry. My samples and assayers’ reports are at the hotel—” “I remember the properties very well,” broke in Henderson. “I know you by reputation, and I know your ground by personal examination. Frankly, Mr. Bowen, I’m bucking the Dickover interests in a certain direction. If you’ll give me an option—” “Nothing doing!” snapped Bowen with finality. “Dickover is talking cold cash. Of course my ore is nothing wonderful—” Henderson produced a check-book. “I’ll give you a check for five thousand to cover both claims,” he said quickly. “Not a cent more. Yes or no?” “Now, I like your way of doing business!” said Bowen cordially. “That’s what I call a man’s way. Five thousand wins. Got any legal forms around, Miss Ferguson? Are you a notary?” “I have and I am,” said the girl quietly. Twenty minutes later, with a witness called in from next door, Henderson was the owner of the Sunburst and Golden Lode claims. Bowen picked up the check for five thousand and handed it to Miss Ferguson. “I don’t know you, Henderson,” he said quietly, “and I need cash badly. Further, I have an engagement in half an hour with Dickover and this must be settled one way or the other. So, Miss Ferguson, kindly step around the corner to the bank and cash this check for me. Good thing you deal with a local bank, Henderson.” “I’ll go right with the young lady,” spoke up Henderson. “I can facilitate the cashing of the check, perhaps.” “No,” said Bowen, his gray eyes suddenly icy. “No. You stay here, Henderson. I want to have a little private conversation with you.” Henderson looked at him hard. Bowen’s tone had not been nice; but then, Bowen seemed to be on the inside, and private conversation was an alluring bait. “Well—” he hesitated. “You’d better stay,” said Bowen calmly. Then he rose and stepped outside the door as Miss Ferguson left. He closed the door again and spoke to the girl in a low voice. “Cash that check, then run up to the Palace and wait for me, will you? Please!” The girl nodded. Her eyes sought his with a mischievous gleam. “You won’t hurt him?”