First out across the desert went the derricks of the well-borers, to develop water for the concentrator and mill; and then diamond-drill men with all their paraphernalia, to block out the richest ore; and after them the millwrights and masons and carpenters, to lay foundations and build the lighter parts of the plant; and, back and forth in a steady stream, the long lines of teamsters, hauling freight from the end of the railroad. It was an awe-inspiring spectacle, this invasion of the desert, this sure preparation to open the treasure-house where the Tecolotes had locked up their ore. But Rimrock was missing from it all! There came a time when Mary Fortune acknowledged this to herself; and, without knowing just why, she took the next train to Geronimo. The summer had come on and the jail as she entered it was stifling with its close, smelly heat. She sickened at the thought of him, caged up there day and night, shut off even from light and air; and when the sheriff let her in through the clanging outer gate she started back at sight of the tanks. Within high walls of concrete a great, wrought-iron cell-house rose up like a square box of steel and, pressed against the bars, were obscene leering eyes staring out for a look at the woman. "Oh, that's all right," said the sheriff kindly, "just step right down this way. I regret very much I can't bring him outside, but he's in for a capital offense." He led the way down a resounding corridor, with narrow windows high up near the roof; and there, staring out from a narrow cell, she saw Rimrock Jones. His face was pale with the prison pallor and a tawny growth covered his chin; but the eyes--they were still the eyes of Rimrock, aggressive, searching and bold. "A lady to see you," announced the sheriff and suddenly they were alone. There had been some business, some important matter upon which she had needed his advice, but as she saw him shut up like a common felon the sudden tears came to her eyes. "Kind of limited quarters," observed Rimrock, smiling wanly, "nothing like that new hotel that we're building. Well, it won't be long now till I'm out of this hole. Is there anything special you want?" "Why, yes!" she said, getting control of herself, "can't--can't we get you out on bail? I didn't know it was so awful inside here--I'm going to engage the best lawyer in town!" "No use," answered Rimrock, "I'm held for murder--and I don't want no lawyer, anyhow." The old stubborn tone had come back into his voice, but swift compassion urged her on. "But you certainly will have one when your case goes to trial! Mr. Lockhart said he would hire one himself." "Nope, don't want 'em," answered Rimrock. "They're a bunch of crooks. I'll handle my case myself." "Yourself? Why, you don't know the law----" "That's why I'll win," broke in Rimrock impatiently. "I'm going to pick out that jury myself." "No, but the briefs and papers! And who will represent you in court?"