m sure they are vastly more discerning at
times. Don't you think--"

The interruption was the appearance of two horsemen pushing their
animals out of a small gorge on the right. When they had gained the main
road they came up, ambling easily, and Blount instantly recognized the
leader of the pair. It was Barto again.

"Howdy?" said the timber-looker, riding up to hang with one knee over
the saddle while he grinned genially at the two castaways. "Lost out
ag'in, ain't ye, Mr. Blount? Couldn't make out, nohow, to run yer
chug-wagon over that there pine-tree, could ye?"

"Did you put the tree in the road?" snapped Blount, his anger rising
promptly, now that there was a man to quarrel with.

"I reckon we did; and it was one Hades of a job, too," was the cool
reply. "Had to drag the dern thing f'r more'n half a mile down the gulch
with the hawss-ropes."

Here was plenty of material for a wrathful explosion, but Blount
controlled himself.

"By whose orders did you do it?" he demanded.

"Th' boss's."

"Mr. Hathaway?"

"Not on yer life; it was the big boss this time."

Blount's quick glance aside at his companion was a wordless "I told you
so!" and then to Barto: "Well, now that you have stopped us, what's
next?"

The outlaw grinned again and kicked his horse a little nearer.

"I'm a-holdin' you up sure enough this time, Mr. Blount--jest like
another little Billy th' Kid," he confided. "You're goin' to gimme them
papers you've got in your pocket, and then me an' Kinky we rides away
all peaceful and leaves you and the lady to set down quiet till
somebuddy comes along to pick you up."

Blount put his hand to his head. His wound was throbbing painfully
again, and the pain may have been partly responsible for his answer.

"When you get those papers you'll take them from a dead man, Barto. Do
your instructions go that far?"

The man of many trades swung straight in his saddle and fell into the
attitude of one listening. Then the good-natured grin became a menacing
scowl.

"Shuck them papers out, and do it sudden!" he commanded.

"No," said Blount crisply.

Instantly the timber-looker's pistol was out.

"Give 'em up!" he shouted; "shell 'em out, quick, 'r by the holy--"

The interposition broke in stormily. Down the grade from the upper mesa
level came a touring-car, with a big man at the wheel, a veiled woman
beside him, and three men in the tonneau. "Holy smoke!" said the outlaw,
and with his riding mate