"I didn't say so," he was quick to remark.

"I know you didn't, but--"

"I don't guess they's many folks in Marysville _know_ much about
Luke--no, not many. Luke is careful and clever, damn clever.
But they's other things besides folks which might have useful
information."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. A gent, a lawyer anyway, keeps a lot of papers in his safe as
a rule. Sometimes them papers make a heap interesting readin'." The
Judge paused and regarded Racey coolly.

"They might prove interesting reading, that's a fact," drawled Racey.

"Now I ain't suggestin' anything," pursued Judge Dolan. "I couldn't on
account of my oath. But it ain't so Gawd-awful far from Farewell to
Marysville."

"It ain't _too_ far."

"I got a notion Luke Tweezy will find important business to keep him
here in Farewell the next four or five days."

"I wonder what kind of a safe Luke has got," murmured Racey.

"Damfino," said the Judge. "You know anything about dynamite--how it's
handled, huh?"

"Shore, handle it carefully."

"I mean how to prepare a fuse and detonator and stick it in the
cartridge. You know how?"

"I helped a miner man once for a week. Shore I know. You cut the fuse
square-ended. Stick the square end into the cap until it touches the
fulminate, and crimp down the copper shell all round with a dull knife
to hold the fuse. Then you make a hole in the end of the cartridge
and--"

"I guess you know yore business, Racey," interrupted Judge Dolan.
"You'll find a package on that shelf by the door. Handle it carefully.
I'm glad you dropped in, Racey, Nice weather we're having."

"But there are some people about due for a cold wave," capped Racey,
stopping on his way out to take the package from the shelf and wink at
Judge Dolan.

The wink was not returned. But the Judge's tongue may have been in his
cheek. He was a most human person, was Judge Dolan of Farewell.

Racey, handling the package with care, went back to the draw where
he had left the two horses. In the draw he opened the package. It
contained six sticks of dynamite and the necessary detonators and
fuse.

"Good old Judge," said Racey, admiringly, and rewrapped the dynamite,
the detonators, and the fuse with even more care than he had employed
in unwrapping them.

He rolled the package into his slicker and tied down the slicker
behind the cantle of his saddle. Untying the two horses he mounted his
own and, leading the other, rode to the hotel corral.

Bill La