"Oh, I found it interesting," Jenkins responded in a leisurely way, "as an instance of the way things are done on the frontier and, as I told you at first, I thought you might be able to verify it. For I was inclined not to believe it, especially as it was about one of the most prominent and respected citizens of New Mexico. But since you've confessed its truth yourself--well, I've got to believe it now. It has been a very blind trail I've followed, crooked and well hidden--wonderfully well hidden, Mr. Bancroft--and the number of names you've hoisted along its course has been bewildering. But I've managed to track you through 'em all, and to discover in Alexander Bancroft, the upright, honored, public-spirited citizen of New Mexico, the identical person of Sumner L. Delafield, the defaulting and absconding financier of Boston." Bancroft looked Jenkins sullenly in the eye. "Well, now that you have it all, what are you going to do about it?" "Pardon me, Mr. Bancroft," said Jenkins with exaggerated suavity, "ah, excuse me, I mean Mr. Delafield--that is for you to say." The banker considered for a moment only. Evidently this man knew exactly what he was about and exactly what he wanted, so that it would be of no use to beat around the bush. "Will you please say precisely what you mean?" was his answer. "That is just what I have been doing, Mr. Delafield." "Excuse me, Jenkins, but my name is Bancroft, not Delafield. I have a legal right to the name of Bancroft, given me by the legislature of Arizona. You will oblige me by addressing me in that way." "Oh, yes; I know that; and a lot of trouble I had with this chase until I found it out! But I thought you might like to hear yourself called Delafield once more--sort of like meeting an old friend, you know. Won't you have another cigar, Mr. Bancroft? No? Well, then, let's have another drink." He poured out two glasses of whiskey. Bancroft drank his without demur, but Jenkins barely touched his glass to his lips. "Well, now, Mr. Bancroft," Jenkins went on affably, smiling and rubbing his hands together, "let's get down to the practical side of this romantic story from real life. You are getting on so well here under your present name, and you have a young daughter--" he saw his listener wince at this, and then carefully repeated his words--"and you have such a beautiful and charming young daughter, who, as the heiress of a father who is making a fortune with clean hands and no cloud on his past, can be taken about the world and can make a good marriage some of these days; considering all this, I take it for granted that you would prefer to have this story buried too deep for resurrection. And it is for you to say whether it shall be buried or not."