warm words were on the tip of the boy's tongue, but he restrained himself. However, he reflected that he was about fed up with this arrogant, callous millionaire.
He looked toward the clock. A quarter to nine, and still no sign of Thorn and Evelyn Madden. Was the girl's train late? Hardly likely.
Though he did not feel particularly welcome in the room, he waited on. He would see this latest development through. At ten o'clock Mr. Gamble rose, and commenting favorably on the desert air, went to his room.
At five minutes past ten the roar of the big car in the yard broke the intense stillness. Bob Eden sat erect, his eager eyes straying from one door to another. Presently the glass doors leading to the patio opened. Martin Thorn came in alone.
Without a word to his chief, the secretary threw down his hat and dropped wearily into a chair. The silence became oppressive.
"Got your business attended to, eh?" suggested Eden cheerfully.
"Yes," said Thorn—no more. Eden rose.
"Well, I guess I'll turn in," he said, and went to his room. As he entered he heard the splash of Mr. Gamble in the bath that lay between his apartment and that occupied by the professor. His seclusion was ended. Have to be more careful in the future.
Shortly after his lights were on, Ah Kim appeared at the door. Eden, finger on lips, indicated the bath. The Chinese nodded. They stepped to the far side of the bedroom and spoke in low tones.
"Well, where's little Evelyn?" asked the boy.
Chan shrugged. "More mystery," he whispered.
"Just what has our friend Thorn been doing for the past four hours?" Eden wondered.
"Enjoying moonlit ride on desert, I think," Chan returned. "When big car go out, I note speedometer. Twelve thousand eight hundred and forty miles. Four miles necessary to travel to town, and four to return with. But when big car arrives home, speedometer announces quietly twelve thousand eight hundred and seventy-nine miles."
"Charlie, you think of everything," Eden said admiringly.
"Strange place this Thorn has been," Charlie added. "Much red clay on ground." He exhibited a fragment of earth. "Scraped off on accelerator," he explained. "Maybe you have seen such place round here?"
"Nothing like it," replied Eden. "You don't suppose he's harmed the gal—but no, Madden seems to be in on it, and she's his darling."
"Just one more little problem rising up," said Chan.
Eden nodded. "Lord, I haven't met so many problems since I gave up algebra. And by the way, tomorrow's Tuesday. The pearls are coming, hurrah, hurrah. At least, old P.J. thinks they are. He's going to be hard to handle tomorrow."
A faint knock sounded on the door to the patio, and Chan had just time to get to the fireplace and busy himself there when it was opened and Madden, oddly noiseless for him, entered.
"Why, hello—" began Eden.
"Hush!" said Madden. He looked toward the bathroom. "Go easy, will you. Ah Kim, get out of here."
"Allight, boss," said Ah Kim, and went.
Madden stepped to the bathroom door and listened. He tried it gently; it opened at his touch. He went in, locked the door leading into the room occupied by Gamble, and returned, shutting the door behind him.
"Now," he began, "I want to see you. Keep your voice down. I've finally got hold of your father on the telephone, and he tells me a man named Draycott will arrive with the pearls at Barstow tomorrow noon."
Eden's heart sank. "Ah—er—that ought to bring him here tomorrow night—"
Madden leaned close, and spoke in a hoarse undertone. "Whatever happens," he said, "I don't want that fellow to come to the ranch."
Eden stared at him in amazement. "Well, Mr. Madden, I'll be—"
"Hush! Leave my name out of it."
"But after all our preparation—"
"I tell you I've changed my mind. I don't want the pearls brought to the ranch at all. I want you to go to Barstow tomorrow, meet this Draycott, and order him to go on to Pasadena. I'm going down there on Wednesday. Tell him to meet me at the door of the Garfield National Bank in Pasadena at noon, sharp, Wednesday. I'll take the pearls then—and I'll put them where they'll be safe."
Bob Eden smiled. "All right," he agreed. "You're the boss."
"Good," said Madden. "I'll have Ah Kim drive you into town in the morning, and you can catch the Barstow train. But remember—this is between you and me. Not a word to anybody. Not to Gamble—of course. Not even to Thorn."
"I get you," Eden answered.
"Fine! Then it's set. Good night."
Madden went softly out. For a long time Eden stared after him, more puzzled than ever.
"Well, anyhow," he said at last, "it means another day of grace. For this relief, much thanks."
Chapter XII. The Trolley on the Desert
A new day dawned, and over the stunted, bizarre shapes of that land of drought the sun resumed its merciless vigil. Bob Eden was early abroad; it was getting to be a habit with him. Before breakfast was served he had a full hour for reflection, and it could not be denied that he had much upon which to reflect. One by one he recalled the queer things that had happened since he came to the ranch. Foremost in his thoughts was the problem of Evelyn Madden. Where was that haughty lady now? No morning mists on the landscape here, but in his mind a constantly increasing fog. If only something definite would occur, something they could understand.
After breakfast he rose from the table and lighted a cigarette. He knew that Madden was eagerly waiting for him to speak.
"Mr. Madden," he said, "I find that I must go to Barstow this morning on rather important business. It's an imposition, I know. But if Ah Kim could drive me to town in time for the ten-fifteen train—"
Thorn's green eyes popped with sudden interest. Madden looked at the boy with ill-concealed approval.
"Why, that's all right," he replied. "I'll be glad to arrange it for you. Ah Kim—you drive Mr. Eden in town in half an hour. Savvy?"
"All time moah job," complained Ah Kim. "Gettum up sunlise woik woik till sun him drop. You want 'um taxi driver why you no say so?"
"What's that?" cried Madden.
Ah Kim shrugged. "Allight, boss. I dlive 'um."
When, later on, Eden sat in the car beside the Chinese and the ranch was well behind them, Chan regarded him questioningly.
"Now you produce big mystery," he said. "Barstow on business has somewhat unexpected sound to me."
Eden
