"Miss Adair, you must let me introduce my friend, Mr. Richard Frisbie"
Frisbie actually blushed—in deference to the lady.
"Why—er—it was the other way round. He double-quicked a little side-trip down the gulch while I knocked in the heads of his whisky barrels and wrecked his bar with a striking hammer I had brought along."
For the first time in the interview the chief's frown melted and he laughed approvingly.
"Miss Adair, you must let me introduce my friend and first assistant, Mr. Richard Frisbie. He is vastly more picturesque than anything else we have to show you at this end of the Pacific Southwestern. Dick—Miss Alicia Adair, President Colbrith's niece."
Frisbie took off his hat, and Miss Alicia gave him her most gracious smile.
"Please go on," she said. "I'm immensely interested. What became of Mr. Garcia afterward?"
"I don't know that," said Frisbie ingenuously. "Only, I guess I shall find out when I go back. He is likely to be a little irritated, I'm afraid. But there are compensations, even in Pete: like most Mexicans, he can neither tell the truth nor shoot straight." Then again to Ford: "What is to be done about the Riley mix-up?"