we know where you stand," Flandrau,
Senior, said stiffly.

The harassed official mopped his face with a bandanna. "Sho! You all make
me tired. I'm not Fendrick's friend while I'm in this office any more than
I'm Luck's, But I've got to use my judgment, ain't I?"

The four adjourned to meet at the Del Mar for a discussion of ways and
means.

"We'll keep a watch on Fendrick--see where he goes, who he talks to, what
he does. Maybe he'll make a break and give himself away," Curly said
hopefully.

"But my father--we must rescue him first."

"As soon as we find where he is. Me, I'm right hopeful all's well with
him. Killing him wouldn't help Cass any, because you and Sam would prove
up on the claim. But if he could hold your father a prisoner and get him
to sign a relinquishment to him he would be in a fine position."

"But Father wouldn't sign. He ought to know that."

"Not through fear your father wouldn't. But if Fendrick could get at him
some way he might put down his John Hancock. With this trouble of Sam
still unsettled and the Tin Cup hold-up to be pulled off he might sign."

"If we could only have Fendrick arrested--"

"What good would that do? If he's guilty he wouldn't talk. And if he is
holding your father somewhere in the hills it would only be serving notice
that we were getting warm. No, I'm for a still hunt. Let Cass ride around
and meet his partners in this deal. We'll keep an eye on him all right."

"Maybe you're right," Kate admitted with a sigh.

CHAPTER VII

ANONYMOUS LETTERS

Sheriff Bolt, though a politician, was an honest man. It troubled him that
Cullison's friends believed him to be a partisan in a matter of this sort.
For which reason he met more than half way Curly's overtures. Young
Flandrau was in the office of the sheriff a good deal, because he wanted
to be kept informed of any new developments in the W. & S. robbery case.

It was on one of those occasions that Bolt tossed across to him a letter
he had just opened.

"I've been getting letters from the village cut-up or from some crank, I
don't know which. Here's a sample."

The envelope, addressed evidently in a disguised hand, contained one sheet
of paper. Upon this was lettered roughly,

"Play the Jack of Hearts."

Flandrau looked up with a suggestion of eagerness in his eyes.

"What do you reckon it means?" he asked.

"Search me. Like as not it don't mean a thing. The others had just as m