desk for his bottle of smuggled brandy. “You’re not so slow. I can do it. What was I consul at Sandakan for? I never knew till now. In a week I’ll have the eagle bird with the frog-sticker blended in so you’d think you were born with it. I brought a set of the needles and ink just because I was sure you’d drop in some day, Mr. Dalton.”
“Oh, hell,” said the Kid. “I thought I told you my name!”
“All right, ‘Kid,’ then. It won’t be that long. How does Señorito Urique sound, for a change?”
“I never played son any that I remember of,” said the Kid. “If I had any parents to mention they went over the divide about the time I gave my first bleat. What is the plan of your round-up?”
Thacker leaned back against the wall and held his glass up to the light.
“We’ve come now,” said he, ‘‘to the question of how far you’re willing to go in a little matter of the sort.”
“I told you why I came down here,” said the Kid simply.
“A good answer,” said the consul. “But you won’t have to go that far. Here’s the scheme. After I get the trade-mark tattooed on your hand I’ll notify old Urique. In the meantime I’ll furnish you with all of the family history I can find out, so you can be studying up points to talk about. You’ve got the looks, you speak the Spanish, you know the facts, you can tell about Texas, you’ve got the tattoo mark. When I notify them that the rightful heir has returned and is waiting to know
