Tompkins shook his head sadly. “I regret to say, sir, that the man whom I had engaged proved to be an unworthy rascal. I refer to Mr. Beam. In common parlance, he was drunk, insisted on taking me in the contrary direction to that which I desired, and even threatened me with a revolver. I abandoned him in the desert, but had I not encountered Miss Gilman and Mr. Foster, I might never have found my way back to town. Here is your receipt, sir, and I shall have to withdraw my money temporarily until I can recompense Mr. Foster for his assistance and make certain purchases. Tomorrow I hope to start off again with a new guide.” The glittering gray eyes of Sidewinder were masked for a moment, then shot up. “That’s right good news!” he exclaimed. “That feller I recommended to you, Mesquite Harrison, is here in town right now. Want to see him?” “By all means!” said Tompkins gratefully. “If he can come to the hotel later on this evening, I shall be very glad—or, let us say, early tomorrow morning. I shall be up with the sun, and I trust early rising will not discommode him?” “None to mention,” said Sidewinder, and took an envelope from his safe. “Here’s your money. Bring back what you got left tomorrow, and we’ll take care of it.” “Thank you—thank you very much,” said Tompkins, and departed. Halting at the garage to see that fresh supplies of fuel were put aboard the flivver, which he left standing in the street, he walked on down to the hotel and found Haywire Johnson in the office, alone. Mr. Tompkins produced a ten-dollar gold-piece and laid it under the eyes of the startled Haywire. “Want to earn that, partner?” he asked in his natural voice. “Gosh, yes!” said Haywire promptly. “Whose mail d’ye want?” “Nobody’s. Give me an envelope and some sealing-wax.” When he was supplied, Tompkins wrote a short note, inclosed with it the deed to Alec Ramsay’s property in Pinecate Cañon, addressed the envelope to the recorder in Chuckwalla City, and sealed it up. Then he gave it to Haywire. “Register this, and slip it into tomorrow morning’s mail-sack without giving Hassayamp a squint at it. That earns the first ten.” Tompkins now produced a second gold-piece, at which Haywire goggled frantically. “Here’s another you can earn. Go over to Pincus’ store and buy me a rifle with a box of cartridges—” “Hold on, Puffesser!” broke in Haywire, quickly. “I got one I’ll sell cheap. Good gosh, yes! Five year old, but better’n they make ’em now. Distance sights.” “All right. Sneak it into my room with a box of cartridges to fit, and I’ll pay you for it; bring along that gun you’re keeping for Sagebrush Beam, too. He wants it. There’s the other ten. You’ll earn it by keeping your mouth shut real tight. And listen! Will you or Hassayamp be on deck along about sunup in the morning?” “Hassayamp wont; that’s certain,” said Haywire, staring at Tompkins. “I’m liable to be, if ye want me.”