"Timmons? Not him. There wa'n't no figure like his in that bunch; I'd know him in the dark."
"But the woman might not have been Miss Donovan; isn't there another young lady here from the East?"
Sadie tossed her head, but with her eyes cautiously fixed on the office door.
"Humph; you mean the peroxid blonde! She ain't no lady. Well, it wa'n't her, that's a cinch; she was down yere to breakfast, a laughin' an' gigglin' with them two men 'bout an hour ago. They seemed ter feel mighty good over something but I couldn't quite make out just what the joke was. Say, did yer ever hear tell of a Mexican named Mendez?"
"Well, rather; he's a cattle thief, or worse. Arizona has a big reward out for him, dead or alive."
"That's the gink, I bet yer; has he got a hang-out anywhar 'round this country?"
"Not so far as I know; in fact, I haven't heard the fellow's name mentioned for six months, or more. What makes you suspect this?"
Sadie leaned even closer, her voice trembling with excitement, evidently convinced that her information was of the utmost importance.
"For God's sake, Mr. Westcott," she whispered, "don't never tell anybody I told yer, but she was awful good ter me, an' that pasty-faced blonde makes me sick just ter look at her. You know the feller they call Enright, I reckon he's a lawyer."
Westcott nodded.