"Fine glad day, ain't it?" Yeager opened gayly. "Great the way friends meet in this little old world."
"What are you doing here?" demanded the prizefighter, his chin jutting forward and down.
"Me! I'm losing my wad at stud. Want to stake me?"
Harrison turned to Pasquale. "Know who he is? Know anything about him, general?"
"Only what he has told me, señor."
"And that is?"
"That he worked for the moving-picture company at Los Robles, that he is out of a job, and that he wants to try the revolutionary game, as you Americans say."
"Don't you believe it. Don't believe a word of it," broke out Harrison stormily. "He's a spy. That's what he is."
Smiling, Steve cut in. "What have I come to spy about, Harrison?"
"You told Threewit that you thought General Pasquale had those cattle. You may deny it, but—"