“That’s all right, Curt, that’s all right!” Baxter broke in, relief apparent in his countenance. “I’ll admit I felt hurt by your insinuations, but as long as you’ve found out you were wrong and are willing to do me the justice of saying so, it’s not worth speaking of again.”
“Understand,” Curtis went on, “that I’m not taking back or apologizing for anything else I’ve said about you, and I’m still shouting for Johnny Martinez for Congress.”
“Johnny is to be congratulated for having your support,” Baxter rejoined genially; “I wish I could get it away from him. Has that measly greaser made any more attempts on your life, my dear Conrad? You’re too good a citizen for the Territory to lose in that way.”
Curtis smiled carelessly. “I don’t think my life is in any danger. No damned greaser will get the chance to stick me in the back when I’ve got both eyes shut and one foot tucked up in my feathers, if I’m onto his game. I don’t care anything about José; it’s his patron I’m after.”
“His patron!” exclaimed Baxter in apparent surprise. “You don’t mean to say that José’s got a patron in that business!” His visitor nodded and the Congressman went on: “You don’t say so! I didn’t suppose you had an enemy in the Territory. This is interesting! We must get at the bottom of this, Mr. Conrad, for we can’t afford to lose you. Have you any idea who’s behind the greaser?”
Curtis considered a moment. He might get some information from Baxter that would help him; it would do no harm to speak cautiously. “Yes, and no, Mr. Baxter. I know who he used to be, but I don’t know who he is now. His name used to be Delafield, back in the States.”
“Delafield—Delafield,” mused Baxter. He had got the conversation where he wanted it. “I don’t remember having heard that name in New Mexico.”
“That hasn’t been his name for a good many years. Don’t you remember the Delafield affair in Boston, some fifteen years ago—Sumner L. Delafield, who made a big spread in the financial world, defaulted, and ran away?”
“Why, of course!” The Congressman brought his fat fist down on the table with a thump. “The Delafield affair! Yes; I remember it, and how Delafield slid out and covered up his tracks completely. And you say he’s living in New Mexico now?”
“Yes; he’s a rich, prominent, and respected citizen of New Mexico. But I haven’t discovered which one of ’em, and he doesn’t want me to find out. My father lost all he had in the smash.”