Dave took the letters with a word of thanks, and thrust them carelessly into his pocket. "What seems to be the trouble?" he inquired.
"You remember our last talk? Well, them Mexicans have got me rattled. I've been trying everywhere to locate you. If you hadn't come home I'd have gone to the prosecuting attorney, or somebody."
"Then you've learned something more?"
Phil nodded, and his sallow face puckered with apprehension. "Rosa
Morales has been to see me regular."
Dave passed an uncertain hand over his forehead. "I'm not in very good shape to tackle a new proposition, but—what is it?"
"We've got to get Mrs. Austin away from here."
"We? Why?"
"If we don't they'll steal her."
"STEAL HER?" Dave's amazement was patent. "Are you crazy?"
"Sometimes I think I am, but I've pumped that Morales girl dry, and I can't figure anything else out of what she tells me. Her and José expect to make a lump of quick money, jump to Mexico, get married, and live happy ever after. Take it from me, it's Mrs. Austin they aim to cash in on."