"What do you say, young ladies, to a visit to San Antonio?" he began. "Father, could we? Do you mean we can?" cried Genevieve. "Yes, dear, that's just what I mean. It so happens I've got business there, so I'm going to take you home 'round by that way. We'll have maybe a couple of days there, and we'll see something of the surrounding country, besides. You know Texas is quite a state--and you've seen mighty little of it, as yet." "Oh, girls, we'll see the Alamo!" cried Genevieve. "Did you realize that?" "Will we, truly?" chorused several rapturous voices. "Yes." "And what do you know about the Alamo, young ladies?" smiled Mr. Hartley. "We know everything," answered Tilly, cheerfully. "Mr. Jones's daughter, you know, was our Latin teacher, and she had the History class, too. Well, we couldn't even _think_ Bunker Hill but what she'd pipe up about the Alamo. Now I think Bunker Hill is pretty good!" "Oh, but we want to see the Alamo, just the same," interposed Bertha, anxiously. "Of course!" cried five emphatic girlish voices. "All right," laughed Mr. Hartley. "You shall see it, all of you--if the train will take us there; and you'll see--well, you'll see a lot of other things, too." Cordelia stirred uneasily. The old anxious look came back to her eyes. When dinner was over she stole to Mr. Hartley's side. "Mr. Hartley, please, shall we see an oil well?" she asked, in a low voice. "Bless you, little lady, what do you know about oil wells?" smiled the man, good-naturedly. "You haven't got any of those to look up, have you?" To his dumbfounded amazement, she answered simply: "Yes, sir--one." "Well, I'll be--well, just what is this proposition?" he broke off whimsically. "If you'll wait--just a minute--I'll get the paper," panted Cordelia. "Mr. Hodges wrote down the name." Very soon she had returned with the paper, and Mr. Hartley saw the name. His face hardened, yet his eyes were curiously tender. "I'm afraid, little girl, that this won't come out quite so well as the Reddy affair--by the way, Reddy left an extra good-by for you this morning. He went away before you were up, you know. He feels pretty grateful to you, Miss Cordelia." "But I didn't do anything, Mr. Hartley. I do wish I could see Mrs. Granger when he gets there, though. I--I'm afraid she doesn't like cowboys much better than Mrs. Miller does." There was a moment's silence. Mr. Hartley was scowling at the bit of paper in his hand. "Did you say you _didn't_ know where that oil well was, Mr. Hartley?" asked Cordelia, timidly. "Yes. I don't know where it is--and I reckon there doesn't anybody else know, either," he answered slowly. "I know where it _claims_ to be, and I know it is just one big swindle from beginning to end." "Oh, I'm so sorry," sighed the girl. "So am I, my dear. I'm sorry for Mr. Hodges, and lots of others that I know lost money in the same thing. But it can't be helped now."