Then came the
second meeting with Jim Galloway.
[Illustration: Then came the second meeting with Jim Galloway.]
The two men rode into each other's view on the lonely trail half-way
between San Juan and Tecolote, which is to say where the little, barren
hills break the monotony of the desert lands some eight or ten miles to
the eastward of San Juan. It was late afternoon, and Galloway, riding
back toward town, had the sun in his eyes so that he could not have
known as soon as did Norton whom he was encountering. But Galloway was
not the man to ride anywhere that he was not ready for whatever man he
might meet; Norton's eyes, as the two drew nearer on the blistering
trail, marked the way Galloway's right hand rested loosely on the
cantle of his saddle and very near Galloway's right hip.
Norton, merely eying him sharply, was for passing on without a word or
a nod. The other, however, jerked in his horse, clearly of a mind for
parley.
"Well?" demanded Norton.
"I was just thinking," said Galloway dryly, "what an exceptionally
fitting spot we've picked! If I got you or you got me right now nobody
in the world need ever know who did the trick. We couldn't have found
a much likelier place if we'd sailed away to an island in the South
Seas."
"I was thinking something of the same kind," returned Norton coolly.
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