“Madame Tibault!  Oh, madame!  Since when—­oh! since when have you been in the habit of papering your walls with five thousand dollar United States four per cent. gold bonds?  Tell me—­is this a Grimm’s fairy tale, or should I consult an oculist?”

At his words, Madame Tibault and Dumars approached.

“H’what you say?” said madame, cheerily.  “H’what you say, M’sieur Robbin? Bon! Ah! those nize li’l peezes papier!  One tam I think those w’at you call calendair, wiz ze li’l day of mont’ below.  But, no.  Those wall is broke in those plaze, M’sieur Robbin’, and I plaze those li’l peezes papier to conceal ze crack.  I did think the couleur harm’nize so well with the wall papier.  Where I get them from?  Ah, yes, I remem’ ver’ well.  One day M’sieur Morin, he come at my houze—­thass ‘bout one mont’ before he shall die—­thass ’long ‘bout tam he promise fo’ inves’ those money fo’ me.  M’sieur Morin, he leave thoze li’l peezes papier in those table, and say ver’ much ’bout money thass hard for me to ond’stan. Mais I never see those money again.  Thass ver’ wicked man, M’sieur Morin.  H’what you call those peezes papier, M’sieur Robbin’—­bon!”

Robbins explained.

“There’s your twenty thousand dollars, with coupons attached,” he said, running his thumb around the edge of the four bonds.  “Better get an expert to peel them off for you.  Mister Morin was all right.  I’m going out to get my ears trimmed.”

He dragged Dumars by the arm into the outer room.  Madame was screaming for Nicolette and Meme to come and observe the fortune returned to her by M’sieur Morin, that best of men, that saint in glory.

“Marsy,” said Robbins, “I’m going on a jamboree.  For three days the esteemed Pic. will have to get along without my valuable services.  I advise you to join me.  Now, that green stuff you drink is no good.  It stimulates thought.  What we want to do is to forget to remember.  I’ll introduce you to the only lady in this case that is guaranteed to produce the desired results.  Her name is Belle of Kentucky, twelve-year-old Bourbon.  In quarts.  How does the idea strike you?”

“Allons!” said Dumars. “Cherchez la femme.”

XII

FRIENDS IN SAN ROSARIO

The west-bound train stopped at San Rosario on time at 8.20 A.M.  A man with a thick black-leather wallet under his arm left the train and walked rapidly up the main street of the town.  There were other passengers who also got off at San Rosario, but they either slouched limberly over to the railroad eating-house or the Silver Dollar saloon, or joined the groups of idlers about the station.

Indecision had no part in the movements of the man with the wallet.  He was short in stature, but strongly built, with very light, closely-trimmed hair, smooth, determined face, and aggressive, gold-rimmed nose glasses.  He was well dressed in the prevailing Eastern style.  His air denoted a quiet but conscious reserve force, if not actual authority.