What makes you suspect this ?" Sadie leaned even closer, her voice trembling with excitement, evidently convinced that her information was of the utmost importance.
"For God's sake, Mr.Westcott," she whispered, "don't never tell anybody I told yer, but she was awful good ter me, an' that pasty-faced blonde makes me sick just ter look at her.

You know the feller they call Enright, I reckon he's a lawyer." Westcott nodded.
"Well, he was doin' most of the talkin', an' I was foolin' round the sideboard yonder, pretendin' ter clean it up.

Nobody thought I was in ear distance, but I got hold ov a word now an' then.

He kept tellin' 'em, 'specially the blonde, 'bout this Mexican, who's a friend of Bill Lacy, an' I judge has a place whar he hangs out with his gang somewhar in the big desert." "Was anything said about Miss Donovan ?" "Not by name; they was too smart for that; but that was the direction Matt Moore drove off last night--there's Enright comin' down-stairs now; won't yer hav' some more cakes, sir ?" Westcott pushed back his chair and rose to his feet.

He had extracted all the information the girl possessed, and had no wish to expose her to suspicion.