n't pay any attention when it's not so."

Bells Park leaned farther over, and lowered his shrill, garrulous
voice to a thin murmur.

"Well, I cain't tell you what it is, but I want to give you the right
lead. When that gets to goin' on about newcomers in the Blue
Mountains--fellers like you be--look out for storms."

"Go on! You're full of stuff again!" Bill gibed, with his hearty
laugh. "If we'd listened to all the mysterious warnin's you've handed
us since we came up here, Bells, we'd been like a dog chasin' his tail
around when it happened to be bit off down to the rump and no place to
get hold of. Better look out! Humph!"

The old engineer got up in one of his tantrums, fairly screamed with
rage, threatened to leave as soon as he could get another job, and
then tramped down the hill to the cabin he occupied with the other
engineer. But that was not new, either, for he had made the same
threat at least a half-dozen times, and yet the men from the Coeur
d'Alenes knew that nothing could drive him away but dismissal.

It was but two or three days later that the partners, coming from the
assay-house to the mess late, discovered a stranger talking to the men
outside under the shade of a great clump of tamaracks that nestled at
the foot of a slope. They passed in and sat down at their table,
wondering who the visitor could be. The cook's helper, a mute, served
them, and they were alone when they were attracted by a shrill, soft
hiss from the window. They looked, and saw Bells Park. Nothing but
his head, cap-crowned, was visible as he stood on tiptoe to reach the
opening.

"I told you to look out," he said warningly. "Old Mister Trouble's
come. Don't give anything. Stand pat. A walkin' delegate from Denver's
here. God knows why. Look out."

His head disappeared as if it were a jack-in-the-box, shut down; and
the partners paused with anxious eyes and waited for him to reappear.
Dick jumped to his feet and walked across to the window. No one was in
sight. He went to the farther end of the mess-house and peered through
a corner of the nearest pane. Out under the tamaracks the stranger was
orating, and punctuating his remarks with a finger tapping in a palm.
His words were not audible; but Dick saw that he was at least
receiving attention. He returned to the table, and told Bill what he
had seen. The latter was perturbed.

"It looks as if we were goin' to have an argument, don't it?" he
asked, voicing his perplexity.