his head.

"No, you don't understand," he repeated patiently. "My orders were to
_close_ the road to the Company, not just to give notice."

Without replying Welton picked up his reins and started his horses. The
man seemed barely to shift his position, but from some concealment he
produced a worn and shiny Colt's. This he laid across the horn of his
saddle.

"Stop," he commanded, and this time his voice had a bite to it.

"Millions for defence," chuckled Welton, who recognized perfectly the
tone, "and how much did you say for tribute?"

"What say?" inquired the old man.

"What sort of a hold-up is this? We certainly can't do this road any
damage driving over it once. How much of an inducement does Plant want,
anyway?"

"This department is only doing its sworn duty," replied the old man. His
blue eyes met Welton's steadily; not a line of his weatherbeaten face
changed. For twenty seconds the lumberman tried to read his opponent's
mind.

"Well," he said at last. "You can tell your chief that if he thinks he
can annoy and harass me into bribing him to be decent, he's left."

By this time the dust and creek of the first heavily laden vehicle had
laboured up to within a few hundred yards.

"I have over a hundred men there," said Welton, "that I've hired to
work for me at the top of that mountain. It's damn foolishness that
anybody should stop their going there; and I'll bet they won't lose
their jobs. My advice to you is to stand one side. You can't stop a
hundred men alone."

"Yes, I can," replied the old man calmly. "I'm not alone."

"No?" said Welton, looking about him.

"No; there's eighty million people behind that," said California John,
touching lightly the shield of his Ranger badge. The simplicity of the
act robbed it of all mock-heroics.

Welton paused, a frown of perplexity between his brows. California John
was watching him calmly.

"Of course, the _public_ has a right to camp in all Forest
Reserves--subject to reg'lation," he proffered.

Welton caught at this.

"You mean--"

"No, you got to turn back, and your Company's rigs have got to turn
back," said California John. "But I sure ain't no orders to stop no
campers."

Welton nodded briefly; and, after some difficulty, succeeding in turning
around, he drove back down the grade. After he had bunched the wagons he
addressed the assembled men.

"Boys," said he, "there's been some sort of a row with the Government,
and they've closed thi