For a moment O’Hara was stunned by his fall to the ground, but shaking himself and finding no bones broken he rose and started for the narrow sand road, still too dazed to know just what he did. Subconsciously, he heard the hum of a motor and turned aside to let it pass, but a voice hailed him, speaking in the perfect accent of a cultured gentlemen: “Can I give you a lift?”
Scarcely noticing the magnificent car which slowed up beside him, O’Hara, swung open the door of the tonneau and leaped in. Even as he did so the car gained speed, until at fully forty miles an hour they were speeding farther and farther into the desert.
The man at the wheel did not speak a further word. His whole attention was engrossed in keeping his powerful machine in the rut of the narrow road that stretched itself interminably out into the sand of the desert. The sun was glaring fiercely down upon them and the sand reflected its intense heat. O’Hara leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. The rush of air, hot as it was, revived him and he felt relaxed and quite indifferent as to where he went.
The car plunged at its terrific speed and yet the little roadway, the far horizon, the gray of the sagebrush and the cactus never changed. It seemed to stretch on, gold and drab, into infinity. The sun sank gradually in the West, until it hung a great red ball of fire, just balancing above the dim silhouette of the foothills. Still O’Hara dozed and the driver of the car continued his unceasing and perfectly controlled speed.
Presently, however, the driver turned abruptly and addressed O’Hara.
“I saw your leap through the car window.” He spoke with peculiar distinctness, a clearer English than O’Hara was accustomed to hear.
By this time the fugitive was fully awake and himself again, and he noticed with keen interest the splendid physique of the man addressing him. His shoulders had an erect bearing that instantly reminded one of long military training, and his face was highly intelligent, though the mouth and eyes were indefinably cold and cruel.
O’Hara waited quietly while the man continued:
“You see I knew you were escaping from something; I could at any time deliver you to the authorities. But I also know that you are quite intelligent. I have many business interests in Mexico and I need a keen, intelligent agent to attend to them for me. If you fail me, there are always the authorities, remember. If not, you’ll find this work both pleasant and lucrative.
“We are staying out here on account of my wife’s health. Her condition is improved, but we still fear a moist climate, and of course I remain with her. Do you accept this work? Will you keep your own counsel, or—” and the cut of a knife was the tone of the man “—shall we return to Albuquerque?”