to Beth's, he circled a building and returned down street towards
McCoppet's.

CHAPTER XXXI

MCCOPPET BUSIES HIS MIND

Unfortunately for Bostwick he knew no ruffians in the camp--none of the
Trimmers who would, perhaps, accept a sum of money to waylay a man,
bash him over the head, and filch required letters from his pocket. He
was not precisely willing, moreover, to broach such an undertaking to
the gambler. This, after all, was his private affair, to be shared
with no one he knew.

The man had arrived at the truth concerning the letters with
commendable skill in deduction. He had himself destroyed Beth's
earlier letter to her brother, for reasons of policy. He had found her
conduct cold, if not suspicious, this morning. How far she had been
excited to distrust himself or the mails he could not estimate. He was
certain, however, she had sent a request to Van Buren to carry a letter
to Glen.

Her reasons for taking precautions so extraordinary were undoubtedly
significant. He was galled; his anger against Van Buren was consuming.
But first and foremost he must block the harm Beth's letter to her
brother might accomplish. For two days more young Kent and Beth must
remain in ignorance of what was being done through the use of her
money--of the fact that no mine of Glen's discovery was the object of
the scheme he was working, and that none of his own alleged money was
being employed in the game.

He made up his mind to go to Starlight himself--to be on hand when Van
Buren should arrive. With Glenmore ill, or injured, in his bed, the
case might offer simple handling, Further neglect of Glenmore might,
indeed, be fatal, at a juncture so delicate. From every possible
viewpoint the thing to do was to intercept Van Buren.

He found McCoppet just returned from launching Lawrence forth upon his
work. Three of the gambler's chosen men had accompanied the
Government's surveyor. They had taken Bostwick's car. Instructions
had been simple enough. Push over the reservation line to cover the
"Laughing Water" claim, by night of the following day.

Searle was taken to the private den. McCoppet imparted his information
with the utmost brevity.

"Nothing for us to do but to wait till six o'clock, day after to-morrow
morning," he concluded, "then play our cards--and play 'em quick."

"You've taken my car?" said Bostwick, whose personal plans were thrown
into utter confusion, for the moment. "I wanted tha