"Oh, here, muchacho--" But Ramon was already hastening down a side street. Waring smiled and shook his head. For a moment he stood looking at the little crucifix shining on the palm of his hand. He slipped it into his pocket and strode back up the street. For an hour or more he walked about, listening casually to this or that bit of conversation. Occasionally he heard Mexicans discussing the Ortez robbery. Donovan's name, Waring's own name, Vaca's, and even Ramon's were mentioned. It seemed strange to him that news should breed so fast. Few knew that he had returned. Possibly Donovan had spread the report that the bandits had made their escape with the money. That would mean that Waring had been outwitted. And Donovan would like nothing better than to injure Waring's reputation. Finding himself opposite the hotel, Waring glanced about and strode in. As he entered the hallway leading to his room three men rose from the leather chairs near the lobby window and followed him. Waring's door closed. He undressed and went to bed. He had been asleep but a few minutes when some one rapped on the door. He asked who it was. He was told to open in the name of the city of Sonora. He rose and dressed quickly. When he opened the door two Sonora policemen told him to put up his hands. Donovan stood back of them, chewing a cigar. One of the policemen took Waring's gun. The other searched the room. Evidently he did not find what he sought. "When you get through," said Waring, eyeing Donovan grimly, "you might tell me what you're after." "I'm after that thousand," said Donovan. "Oh! Well, why didn't you say so? Just call in Stanley, of the bank. His room is opposite." Donovan hesitated. "Stanley's got nothing to do with this." "Hasn't he?" queried Waring. "Call him in and see." One of the police knocked at Stanley's door. The bank cashier appeared, rubbing his eyes. "Hello, Bill! Hello, Jim! What's the fuss?" "Stanley, did I deposit a thousand dollars in gold to the credit of the Ortez Mine this afternoon?" "You did." "Just show Donovan here the receipt I asked you to keep for me." "All right. I'll get it." Donovan glanced at the receipt. "Pretty smooth," he muttered. Waring smiled. His silence enraged Donovan, who motioned to the police to leave the room. Waring interrupted. "My gun?" he queried mildly. One of the police handed the gun to Waring. Their eyes met. "Why, hello, Pedro!" And Waring's voice expressed innocent surprise. "When did you enroll as a policeman?" Donovan was about to interrupt when the policeman spoke: "That is my business." "Which means Bill here has had you sworn in to-day. Knew you would like to get a crack at me, eh? You ought to know better, Salazar." "Come on!" called Donovan. The Mexicans followed him down the hallway. Waring thanked Stanley. "It was a frame-up to get me, Frank," he concluded. "Pedro Salazar would like the chance, and as a policeman he could work it. You know that old game--resisting arrest."