whose debris rain had fallen. For the rest there was a
pile of ashes, and that surprising sense of smallness which one
receives from the skeleton of a burned house, seemingly at variance
with the dignity of its inhabited size.

"Hit didn't take 'em long ter set hit," was his only comment, but
afterward he slipped down and studied upon the frozen ground certain
marks that had been made before it hardened. He found an empty kerosene
can--and some characteristics, marking the tracks of feet, that seemed
to have a meaning for him. So Kelly wrote down on the index of his
memory two names for future reference.

It had occurred to Mark Tapper, the revenue agent, that the activities
of Bear Cat Stacy constituted a great wastage, bringing no material
profit to anyone. He himself was left in the disconcerting attitude of
a professional who sees his efforts fail while an amateur collects
trophies. Before long the fame of recent events would cease to be
local. The talk would be borne on wayfaring tongues to the towns at the
ends of the rails and some local newspaper correspondent, starving on
space rates, would discover in it a bonanza. Here ready-made was the
story of an outlaw waging a successful war on outlawry. It afforded an
intensity of drama which would require little embellishment.

If such a story went to press there would be news editors quick to
dispatch staff correspondents to the scene and from somewhere on the
fringes of things these scribes would spill out columns of saffron
melodrama. All these matters worked through the thoughts of Mark Tapper
as preliminary and incidental. His part in such publicity would be
unpleasant. His superiors would ask questions, difficult to answer, as
to why he, backed--in theory--with the power of the government had
failed where this local prodigy had made the waysides bloom with
copper.

Decidedly he must effect a secret coalition with Bear Cat Stacy. If he
could make some such arrangement as he already had with Towers, it
might work out to mutual satisfaction. It might be embarrassing for
Bear Cat to raid his kinsmen. It was equally so for Tapper to raid
Towers' favorites. But by exchanging information they could both obtain
results as harmonious as the arrangement of Jack Spratt and his wife.
It was all a very pretty scheme for double-and-triple-crossing--but the
first difficulty was in seeing Bear Cat himself.

Finally Mark decided to mail a letter to his man. For all his hidin