Coravel Tio looked at him. Coravel Tio laughed gently, softly, very acridly.
“My dear señor!” he said. “You knew about the real Premble and his business here. Your friend met the real Premble and did his work very well. You planned things nicely. You came and made us your proposition, knowing that we would refuse it, knowing that we would be assured that you and Premble were at enmity; knowing that we would sell out to Señor Premble—eh? And Premble would buy the mine for you. Ah, yes!
“It was very cleverly planned, and very well executed. But now, señor, you had better go and sit beside your friend, and be driven back to town with him. There I think that you will receive some interesting information. I would like to tell you about it myself, but——”
At this point Mrs. Crump came to her feet. She understood the whole trick at last, she understood the deep cunning of Mackintavers, and she was white with fury.
“Coravel Tio, this skunk sure makes me blush to see him! Now, I aim to give him a right good hidin’, which same he deserves plenty. Get outside, ye coyote—hustle!”
From the wall Mrs. Crump seized her trusty blacksnake. Thoroughly alarmed, Mackintavers attempted no protests but backed through the doorway. Before the lady, however, uprose Coravel Tio, and his hand restrained her from pursuit.
“No,” he said, softly, looking into her eyes. “I have reasons, señora; good reasons.”
Mrs. Crump flushed, then paled again. Restraint came hard to her.
“I aim to punish him,” she rasped.
“That is already arranged.” Coravel Tio smiled at her. “That has been arranged—by the gods of the San Marcos. You will, please, leave everything in my hands, señora. Everything! I wish to handle everything here to-day. Everything!”