"Where?"
"It don't matter particular—anywheres."
Murray grinned.
"You seem to have a down on Two Palms, partner. What's the idea?"
"Well, they's a close corporation there, a bunch of oldtimers that's mostly related and don't take much stock in outsiders, if you savvy. Nothin' there but desert. Stage runs up there once a week with the mail, which same if it wasn't contracted for wouldn't go."
"What's this about the chink and the girl?" put in Hobbs. "Sounds queer."
"If you ask me, it is queer!" said the desert rat, with some profanity to boot.
"They come through here, I remember 'em," spoke up the proprietor, leaning on the bar. "Darned pretty girl, too. Mebbe he's mining."
"Piute said not."
"Oh!" exclaimed Hobbs quickly. "Are there mines around Two Palms? Gee! Say, doc, let's get us a mine!"