uh goin' to spring it on 'em?"

"First good chance I get," returned Buck. "The sooner the better, so they
won't have time to try any more dirty work."

The opportunity was not long in coming. They reached the ranch just before
dinner and when the meal was over learned that the afternoon was to be
devoted to repairing the telephone leading from the ranch-house to Las
Vegas camp, which had been out of order for several weeks. As certain
fence wires were utilized for line purposes, this meant considerable work,
if Stratton could judge by the ruinous condition of most of those he had
seen. He wondered not a little at the meaning of the move, but did not
allow his curiosity to interfere with the project he had in mind.

They had left the ranch in a bunch, Kreeger and Siegrist alone remaining
behind for some other purpose. They had not gone more than two miles when
a remark of McCabe's on mining claims gave Buck his cue.

"A fellow who goes into that game with a bunch takes a lot of chances," he
commented. "I knew a chap once who came mighty near being croaked, to say
nothing of losing a valuable claim, by being too confiding with a gang he
thought could be trusted."

"How was that?" inquired Slim amiably, as Stratton paused.

"They wanted the whole hog instead of being contented with their share,
and tried two or three times to get this fellow--er--Brown. When Brown
wised up to what was going on he thought at first he'd have to pull out to
save his hide. But just in time he doped out a scheme to stop their dirty
work, and it sure was a slick one, all right."

Buck chuckled retrospectively. Though the pause was unbroken by any
questions, he saw that he had the complete and undivided attention of his
audience.

"What he did," resumed Stratton, "was to write out a detailed account of
all the things they'd tried to put across, one of which was an attempt
to--a--shoot him in his bunk while he was asleep. He sealed that up in an
envelope and sent it to the sheriff with a note asking him to keep it
safe, but not to open it unless the writer, Brown, got bumped off in some
violent way or disappeared, in which case the sheriff was to act on the
information in it and nab the crooks. After he'd got word of its receipt,
he up and told the others what he'd done. Pretty cute, wasn't it?"

The brief pause that followed was tense and fraught with suppressed
emotion.

"Did it work?" McCabe at length inquired, with elaborate casualne