"José," said Conrad as Gonzalez entered the corral, and his tone struck the Mexican as being unusually gentle, "I know that you spoke the truth to me this morning. But what you told me shall go no further. Mr. Bancroft shall never know that you told me, and neither he nor anybody else shall suffer harm because of it. There is no longer any need of a feud between you and me, and I wish you would stay and work for me. It isn't every day that I can get hold of a cowboy that knows enough to hit the ground with his hat in three throws." José smiled, and shook his head. "No, Don Curtis. I like you much, and you are a very brave man. You are a braver man than I am. But to-morrow I am going back to Santa Fe." "Well, then, if you won't stay I'll give you your time whenever you want it. But, I say, José, why don't you give up this rattlesnake business? You're on the level every other way; and you're too good a fellow to discredit all your race with this sort of work when you could be a first-class cowboy if you wanted to." The Mexican looked at him with a wondering smile, shook his head, and went on into the corral. Conrad strolled to the little porch at his front door, stood there a moment watching the sunset colors; then, with his head in the air, went inside and sat down at his desk. He began a letter to Rutherford Jenkins: "I have found that you told me the truth in that interview we had in your room in the hotel at Albuquerque some months ago. I do not know by what mysterious dispensation of Providence this strange thing happened, but I acknowledge now that it was the truth. I still maintain, however, that my final remark to you on that occasion was absolutely correct. "I suppose you have been using this information about Mr. Bancroft's previous life to blackmail him. I advise you to stop it and to let him alone hereafter. If you don't, I tell you right now that you will surely wish you had. I shall take pains to find out whether or not you heed my warning, and if you don't I promise you that you will soon be able to sympathize with a skunk after a cowboy has thrown at it a can of oil and a blazing stick. "Yours truly, "CURTIS CONRAD." CHAPTER XXIII LOVE TO THE RESCUE