Shea trembled. Dorales! Why did these natives speak of Dorales in this way?
Now it came into his mind how Tom Logan had known all about him; how Logan had been in Zacaton City the previous night; how Logan had gotten lost in the lava beds—even to Shea’s innocence a very improbable thing. Prospectors for limestone formations do not enter the lava beds.
Latent suspicion crystallized within Shea’s brain. Tom Logan was no other than Abel Dorales; he was certain of it, he knew it absolutely. His eyes were opened, and he sought for no proof.
Dorales had intended to come here, thinking the place deserted. In Zacaton City he had learned that Thady Shea was probably at Number Sixteen. He had come with cunning intent, he had come with cunning words and a false tongue. The offer of ten thousand dollars might or might not be genuine; no matter!
To the terribly childlike Shea it seemed that Providence had sent that low word and laugh through the night to his ears, to save him from temptation. At thought of how, a few minutes ago, he had been on the point of swallowing the gilded lure of Dorales, he shivered and wiped sweat from his brow.
He turned about and started toward the shacks.
Beside the table where the oil lamp burned, Dorales was sitting and writing. He filled out a previously prepared paper which would transfer to the Empire State Chemical Company, for the sum of ten thousand dollars, all the rights, holdings, and so forth, of Thaddeus Shea in the property underfoot. The company in question consisted of Sandy Mackintavers.
This paper ready for signatures and witnessing, Dorales produced a blank check which bore the almost illegible but widely known signature of A. Mackintavers. This Dorales filled out in the name of Thaddeus Shea, and in the amount of ten thousand dollars. At this instant he heard a hoarse voice whisper his name—“Dorales!”
“Well?” He glanced up sharply, taken by surprise.
Into the lighted doorway stepped Thady Shea, his cavernous eyes blazing. For an instant Dorales was too completely astounded to move—astounded by the realization of how he had just betrayed himself, astounded by the fact that this gaunt fellow was no simpleton after all!