Hanson, although he had drawn nearer her, still stood on the edge of the crowd, leaning against the bar.  “So that’s the Black Pearl!” he said presently to the bar-keeper.

“That’s her,” responded Jimmy equably.  “Can’t be beat.  What’ll you have?”

“Nothing, just yet.  Say, those stones around her neck look good to me.”  Hanson narrowed his eyes.

“Good!” Jimmy laughed shortly, a characteristic, mirthful little chuckle.  “I guess so.  Bob Flick, up there beside Pearl, counting that money, he gave ’em to her after she found him when he’d been lost on the desert about three days.  I’ll tell you about it when I got more time.”

Hanson had been conscious from time to time of the close but furtive scrutiny of the man whom the bar-keeper had designated as Bob Flick, and now he, in turn, made Flick an object of observation.

He saw a tall man of noticeable languor and deliberation of movement, doubtless so long studied that it had become natural.  His face, with regular, rather aquiline features, was devoid of expression, almost mask-like, while the deep lines about the mouth and eyes showed that he lived much in the hard, brilliant, western sunlight.

Hanson was quick enough to size up a man and a situation.  “I’ll make a note to look out for you,” he thought, “just about as cold and just about as deadly as a rattler.”

“Say,” he turned to Jimmy again, “I want to meet her.  I’m a theatrical manager, always looking out for new turns.  Heard of this Black Pearl and thought I’d run down and sign her up if I could.”

“She does go traveling once in a while,” returned Jimmy dubiously, “but it’s all in the mood she’s in whether she’ll let you even talk to her.  You might as well count on the desert out there as the Pearl.”

“I suppose she’s out for big money?” queried Hanson.

“She’ll get all she can, I guess,” Jimmy chuckled.  “But,” he added boastfully, “she can make big money by staying right here.  Look at what she’s pulled in to-night.  And there’s her father, old Gallito, he’s got more than one good ‘prospect,’ and is foreman beside of one of the big mines in the mountains.  And her mother, there, that played the violin, she’s got some nice irrigated land, and even Hughie, that played, he makes money playing for dances in the different towns.  Oh, they’re smart folks.”

“Is Hughie the brother?” asked Hanson, looking at the boy, who sat listlessly at the piano.

“No.  Adopted.”  Jimmy spoke briefly.  “Born blind, but let me tell you, he sees considerable more than those of us who have eyes.”

“Well, the Pearl’s a certain winner,” said the manager earnestly, “a flower of the desert, a what-you-may-call-’em, a cactus bloom.”

“Correct, and don’t forget the spines,” chuckled Jimmy.  “Looks as if they were all out to-night, too.  Kind of sulky, ain’t she?  Well, did you say you was waitin’ to be introduced?  I’ll take you up and ask her.  Like as not, she’ll turn you down.  She ain’t looked at you once, I notice.  I been watching her.”