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Where and when could that boy of his have encountered Willa Murdaugh? The man with the scarred forehead took her in to dinner and Willa listened politely to his rather heavy pleasantries, studying him the while through narrowed eyes. Of a type foreign to the frequenters of the Blue Chip, he had not crossed her path in Limasito, but his previous activities there were an open book to her.

Her voice died in an unintelligible murmur, and the rhythmic swaying recommenced. The legend of the Lost Souls' Pool was no new one to Billie; she had heard it often from the lips of the old crone, who could never be persuaded to divulge its supposed location and the myth had become an old settlers' joke around Limasito.

"You have finished it? You will not have to return again?" The contentment faded and in its place there came a look of bitterness and dogged determination. "It has scarcely begun. I wonder if you ever heard an old legend around Limasito concerning the lost location of a marvelous oil well?" Willa laughed nervously, a little taken aback by the abruptness of the question.

We have all missed you in Limasito." "You have become quite a native, then?" She raised her eyebrows. "You find the life there more congenial, perhaps, than at first." "Not since you left, my dear Billie. Or is that name forbidden?" "It is forgotten. Only my friends may recall it, and you were never of their number, Mr. Wiley." "I beg your pardon.

"I was mistaken also, it appears. I fancied you were indisposed, but that was a mere façon de parler, no doubt. My cousin is getting on, isn't she, Starr?" Willa flushed, but Starr Wiley replied easily: "We were just renewing our acquaintanceship, Miss Murdaugh and I met in Limasito, you know." "How unfortunate!" Angie tittered. "Just when Willa was so successfully living down the past, too!

"You may remember, Miss Murdaugh, that I knew Starr Wiley before I met him again in Limasito, and that knowledge alone would have impelled me to distrust at sight any claims which he might produce, no matter what their nature," he began.

He had parted with some little difficulty from his host, who insisted on sending in to Limasito for the young engineer's baggage and wholeheartedly desired that he make the Hacienda de Rosa his headquarters. Kearn Thode, however, had other intentions. He must be free to go and come as he pleased on his mission and he determined to make the town itself the center of his activities.

"Where did she go when she took herself off in that high-handed fashion?" "Search me!" Wiley shrugged. "She's eliminated, anyway, from the scene." "Not if we happen to shift the scene to Mexico!" retorted the other. "What if she has gone back to Limasito?" "Well, she hasn't." Wiley announced briefly.

It may be that he came upon Sawyer skulking about and was warning him off the hacienda. Sawyer has been in Limasito for many days, and he plays high at my father's casa." "With what gold?" the old woman retorted. "He who has been beggar and thief since the hour of his birth. Much gold he could not steal for he has not the wit. For what evil compact has he been paid in riches?" The girl shrugged.

She could scarcely believe that she had ever left Limasito; the climacteric weeks in New York, the trip to Topaz Gulch and the later scene in Jim Baggott's hotel had alike faded into a vague, nebulous shadow without substance or coherence, and she herself seemed drifting. . . . Again it was Sallie who brought her back to earth with a matter-of-fact remark.