"And I fired in return," the engineer stated. "The fellow was across the street in the dark. You might look over there."

Turning and pushing his way through the packed door, the sheriff disappeared. The crowd melted away again. Presently as Weir glanced about he saw a new figure at the doorway, staring at him. He went towards the girl there outlined in the lamplight.

"Was that you I saw moving along just before the exchange of compliments, Miss Hosmer?" he asked.

"Yes. I was coming towards you on my way home."

"It probably gave you a fright."

"It did, indeed. I heard the shot and saw your hat knocked off. I just went cold in my tracks. At first I believed you killed."

"I'm very much alive, as you see."

"But it was dreadful! Who would fire at you from the dark? Some one tried to murder you!"

"It looks like it. Still here I am, ready to move your car out of the water next time it's stalled."

She entered the room slowly.

"Who in San Mateo would do such a terrible thing, Mr. Martinez?" she addressed the lawyer. The pallor was still on her face and her eyes were large with horror.

"Ah, Miss Janet, if we but knew! We'd lay hands on him and send him to the penitentiary."

Real emotion struggled in the lawyer's words. With the return of his senses he had just begun to realize by what a narrow margin the a.s.sa.s.sin's bullet had missed destroying his future client and prospects.

A growing murmur across the street attracted their attention. Then as they continued to chat of the event, the sheriff reappeared, directing half a dozen men who laid a burden in the light of Martinez' doorway.

"You got him," he said to Weir, with ominous significance. "One bullet through the head, one through his stomach. He's good and dead."

Weir walked forward and inspected that outstretched figure. It was the man whose gaze had been so malevolently fastened upon him as he joined Martinez before Sorenson's office.

"Who is he?" he asked.

"A strange Mexican. Some of these men say he showed up this morning and hung around the saloons, not talking much. Haven't you ever seen him, before?" The question expressed a perplexed curiosity.

"Once. When Martinez and I were coming here to transact some business.

He was taking a good look at me then when he pa.s.sed us. That wasn't over half an hour ago. Never saw him before that."

"He shot at you first?"

"I had just stepped out of this room. Could I see him hiding over there? Or know he was there?" Then he added, "I was taken by surprise, but I marked the flash of his gun."

The sheriff, Madden by name, looked at Weir appreciatively.

"You can use a gun yourself," said he, briefly.

Martinez now repeated the fact of the dead man having fired the first shot, which Janet Hosmer confirmed.

"Well, is there anything more?" Weir questioned.

"Not to-night, I reckon," Madden replied. "We'll have an inquest in the morning; show up then. Where will I find your father, Miss Hosmer?"

"At home." Then to the engineer she explained, "Father acts in the absence of the coroner, who's away just now."

"I'm very sorry this happened on your account," said he.

"And I'm very glad you were not hurt."

Outside the corpse was being borne away, followed by the curious, avid crowd of Mexicans.

"You're still shaken by the thing," said Steele Weir. "It's enough to upset any girl. Let me walk home with you, or you may be starting at shadows all the way."

CHAPTER VI

JANET HOSMER

A silvery brightness shone in the east as they came out of Martinez'

office, that increased as they went forward until all at once the moon arose into view, lighting the street, disclosing the flanking lines of squat buildings, revealing the tall cottonwoods about the court house and elsewhere thrust up in the town.

Janet Hosmer breathed a sigh of relief. The darkness had seemed potent for further evil, but now it was as if the latter retreated with the shadows. She felt a desire to go on alone, to separate herself from this companion with whom chance had brought her in contact at a dramatic moment, to get away from the whole terrible affair.

Involuntarily her spirit shrank at the nearness of the man, for though he had struck back in self-defense he nevertheless had killed another and the act somehow appeared to set him apart from ordinary men, isolate him, give him the character of an Ishmael.

Yet her feelings were confused. Against this inclination was an avid curiosity, or rather a wonderment, as to what must now be occurring in his soul. Her eyes sought his face as he walked beside her. Neither had spoken; and his countenance wore the same stern contained aspect, calm, forceful, as the first time she had ever observed it. But what was below the surface? What were the thoughts now revolving in his mind and the emotions flowing in his breast? She could read nothing on that composed mask of a face. Was it possible for a man to slay another human being, even justifiably, without suffering a hurricane of the spirit?

But perhaps he had killed men before. The fact of his carrying a weapon and his swift deadly fire pointed ominously to previous experience.

"Did you ever shoot any one before?" popped from between her lips.

Then she stopped, clapping her hand over her mouth in consternation and staring at him palely.

Weir had halted too. He regarded her in silence for a little, a slight smile resting on his face. They stood before the cattle company's office and his look went past her once to embrace the small darkened building.

"I'm not a murderer by trade, if that's what you mean," said he, at last. "But I've killed a man or two before, yes." Then at the white anguish of her lips and cheeks, his tone softened a degree as he went on. "Unfortunately since becoming of age I've had to fight. If not men, then the earth. If not the earth, then men. Sometimes both together. You saw what happened to-night; that fellow was unknown to me. He was not a workman who had been discharged and felt he had a grievance----"

"Oh, no!" she interjected. "The Mexicans here wouldn't attempt to murder you, however angry they might feel."

"I'm not so sure of that," he answered.

"But I am; I know them, I've lived among them!"

"Well, let that go. The man tried to kill me, at any rate. However, he was merely a tool, hired for the business by some one else. Ordinarily I don't discuss my affairs with any one, but since you've raised the matter I'll just say that I've enemies in San Mateo who are anxious to dispose of me."

"Such enemies here!"

"Yes. Who would be delighted to see me lie where that dead man lies and who are apparently determined to effect it." He touched her sleeve warningly. "But you will speak of this to no one."