He washed the backs of his hands with the palms as he bowed his visitors to chairs.

“I may say that the case is progressing favorably—­very favorably indeed, Mr. Gordon.  The papers have been drawn and filed.  We await an answer from the defendants.  I anticipate that there will be only the usual court delays in pressing the action.”

“We’ll beat them, I suppose,” Dick replied, with a manner almost of indifference.

“One can never be positive in advance, but I’d like to own your claim to the estate, Mr. Gordon,” laughed the lawyer wheezily.

“Think we’ll be able to wolf the real owners out of their property all right, do you?”

Fitt’s smile went out like the flame of a burnt match.  The wrinkles of laughter were ironed out of his fat cheeks.  He stared at his client in surprise.  It took him a moment to voice the dignified protest he felt necessary.

“Our title is good in law, Mr. Gordon.  I have been over the evidence very carefully.  The court decisions all lean our way.  Don Bartolome Valdes, the original grantee, failed to perfect his right of ownership in many ways.  It is very doubtful whether he himself had not before his death abandoned his claim.  His official acts appear to point to that conclusion.  Our case is a very substantial one—­very substantial, indeed.”

“The Valdes’ tenants have settled on the land, grazed their flocks over it, bought farms here and there from the heirs, haven’t they?”

“Exactly.  But if the sellers cannot show a good title—­and my word as a lawyer for it they can’t.  Prove that in court and all we’ll need is a writ of ejectment against the present holders as squatters.  Then——­” Fitt snapped his finger and thumb in an airy gesture that swept the Valdes’ faction into the middle of the Pacific.

“It’ll be the story of Evangeline all over again, won’t it?” asked Gordon satirically.

“Ah!  You have a kind heart, Mr. Gordon.  Your sympathy does you credit.  Still—­business is business, of course.”

“Of course,” Dick picked up a pen and began to jab holes aimlessly into a perfectly good blotter tacked to the table.  “Well, let’s hear the story—­just a sketch of it.  Why do the rightful heirs lose out and the villain gain possession?”

Mr. Fitt smiled blandly.  He had satisfied himself that his client was good pay and he did not intend to take offense.  “It pleases you to be facetious, Mr. Gordon.  But we all know that what this country needs—­what such a valley as the Rio Chama ought to have—­is up to date American development.  People and conditions are in a primitive state.  When men like you get possession of the Moreno and similar tracts New Mexico will move forward with giant strides to its great destiny.  Time does not stand still.  The day of the indolent semi-feudal Spanish system of occupancy has passed away.  New Mexico will no longer remain manana land.  You—­and men like you—­of broad ideas, progressive, energetic——­”