"Splendid, señor. The finest I have seen in a long time." "I'll warrant it! I never saw a better myself. Looks like a good traveller, doesn't she?" "Si, señor." "And a stayer, too, I guess! It wouldn't be hard to get to the Mexican border on her back, would it?" Melgares grinned, then shook his head. "But my family--I could not take them with me." "Well--see here, Melgares. Here's fifty dollars. If you'll get away with Conrad's mare you can have it for your trouble. It will take your family down there all right." "But you, señor,--where do you come in?" He looked suspiciously at Jenkins. "Oh, never mind me. Conrad did me a bad turn a while ago, and I'm evening up the score. That's all I want out of it." "But now, señor?" "Yes; now's your chance. He's in the saloon, and the mare's tied at the corner." "The Sheriff is in there, too. The risk is great." "Well, I'll go in and keep them busy. I'll raise excitement enough inside so that nobody will even look out of the windows. Get out there in five minutes, be quick about it, and ride off down the valley road." "Give me the money, señor. I'll take the chance." Jenkins returned, and entered the bar-room with his former companion without attracting the attention of Conrad and his friends. The other spoke of the report about the Castleton money and mentioned Curtis Conrad's name. Jenkins raised his voice in angry reply: "Oh, damn Conrad! Martinez don't want his help!" Curtis heard the words and turned sharply around, his face flushing. Jenkins appeared not to see him, and went on: "The Castletons are all right, but Conrad's help would be a disgrace to any party. Martinez don't want it!" His voice rang loud and shrill above the silence that had fallen suddenly upon the room. Curtis's face paled, even under its ruddy tan, and his eyes blazed. With head up he strode forward. "Jenkins," he said, without raising his voice, although it shook with a warning tremor, "I advise you to be careful. You may have your opinion about me, as I have mine about you--and you know what that is. But don't you say that again, nor anything else of the sort!" Jenkins turned toward him with an ugly sneer. Recollection of former indignities at Conrad's tongue and hands blazed up in his heart and carried him farther than he had meant to go. With an oath and a vile name he flung his glass in Conrad's face. In an instant the young man's arms were around his body. The others crowded in and tried to stop the quarrel. "Let us alone!" shouted Curtis, pushing his way toward the back room. "Wilder, take his gun, will you? Get mine out of my pocket, too. This won't be a gun play."