Project Gutenberg's The Boy Ranchers ofPuget Sound, by Harold Bindloss

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Title: The Boy Ranchers of Puget Sound

Author: Harold Bindloss

Release Date: November 22, 2011 [EBook#38087]

Language: English

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOKTHE BOY RANCHERS OF PUGET SOUND ***

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THE BOYRANCHERS OFPUGET SOUND

"'DESERTED!' JAKE SAIDSHORTLY"—Page 282

THE BOYRANCHERS

OF PUGET SOUND

BYHAROLD

BINDLOSSAuthor of "Alton of

Somasco," "Winston of thePrairie," "Lorimer of theNorthwest," "Thurston of

Orchard Valley," etc.

NEW YORKFREDERICK A. STOKES

COMPANYPUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1910, ByFrederick A. Stokes Company

All rights reserved

CONTENTSCHAPTER PAGE

I. Frank GoesWest 1

II. The Bush 14III. The Ranch 28IV. Target Practice 39

V. The MysteriousSchooner 51

VI. At the Helm 62VII. A Warning 71

VIII.SalmonSpearing 82

IX. A Plain Hint 93X. A Breeze of

Wind 106

XI. Mr. BarclayJoins the Party 118

XII. The Stranger 127

XIII. The SchoonerReappears 137

XIV. A Test ofEndurance 148

XV. A MidnightVisitor 157

XVI. Frank Kills aDeer 166

XVII. Mr. Webster'sGuns 174

XVIII. Running aCargo

184

XIX. The Caché 195

XX. Mr. Webster'sSlashing 206

XXI. A Night on theSands 216

XXII. The Ultimatum 228

XXIII.Mr. OliverOutwits HisWatchers

237

XXIV. A Fast Run 249

XXV. The UnitedStates Mail 259

XXVI. Mr. BarclayLays His Plans 268

XXVII. The Derelict 277

XXVIII. A GrimDiscovery 285

XXIX. The Raid 294XXX. The Relief of

the Ranch 305

XXXI. Frank Becomesa Ranch Owner 315

THE BOYRANCHERS OFPUGET SOUND

CHAPTER IFRANK GOES WEST

It was the middle of an afternoon in May.An old side-wheeler was steaming southtoward Puget Sound across the land-locked waters that lie between VancouverIsland and the state of Washington. A littleastern on one hand Mount Baker lifted itsheights of eternal snow. On the other, anda little ahead, the Olympians rose whiteand majestic; and between, vast, dimforests rolled down to the ruffled, bluewater. It seemed to Frank Whitney, sittingon the steamer's upper deck in the lee of

her smokestack, that it was a wild andwonderfully beautiful country he hadreached at last; for since leavingVancouver, British Columbia, they hadsteamed past endless rocks and woods,while island after island faded into thesmoke trail down the seething wake andgreat white mountains opened out,changed their shapes, and closed in on oneanother as the steamer went by. He had,however, not come there to admire thescenery, and as he watched the wonderfulpanorama unroll itself he looked backupon the troubles that had befallen himsince he set out from Boston a little lessthan a year ago.

When he left that city he was but sixteen,and was, as he had cause to realize during

the following twelve months, merely anaverage American boy, with a certainamount of alertness, self-reliance andcommon sense; though he might, perhaps,have had more of these desirablequalities, had he not been a trifle spoiledby his widowed mother before he went toGorton school. He had, quite apart fromhis lessons, learned a few useful thingsthere which probably he would neverhave learned at home, but he had beensuddenly recalled, and his mother hadinformed him that it was now impossiblefor him to enter the profession for whichhe had been intended. Frank did notunderstand all the reasons for this, but heknew that they were connected with thefall in value of some railroad stock andthe failure of a manufacturing company in

which his mother held shares. She had, asshe pointed out, his two younger sisters toprovide for, and he must earn his living atonce.

Frank found this much harder than he hadexpected. The subjects in which heexcelled did not seem to be of the leastuse to business men, and the fact that hecould play several games moderately welldid not seem to count at all. There werepeople who were ready to give him atrial, but they seemed singularly unwillingto pay him enough to live in a way that heconsidered fitting; and this somewhatastonished as well as troubled him. In theend, a relative, who said that a young manwith any grit and snap had better chancesin the West, found him a position with a

big milling company in Minneapolis.Frank accepted the position, but soonfound it not much to his liking. The peoplehe met were not like his Boston friends.They were mostly Germans andScandinavians, and their ways were notthose to which he had been accustomed.What was worse, they hustled him in themilling company's offices, and instead ofteaching him the business kept him busylicking stamps, copying letters andanswering telephones, which did not seemto him a fitting occupation for anintellectual lad.

He bore it, nevertheless, because he hadto, until one day there came a climax,when a clerk who had bullied him allalong assigned to him a particularly

disagreeable task which was reallyoutside his duties. In return, in a fit of veryfoolish anger, Frank screwed the clerk'snew hat down tight in a copying-press,and it happened that the secretary cameupon the scene during the trouble thatfollowed. The secretary had an unpleasanttemper, and when he walked out of thegeneral office Frank sat down at his deskboiling with indignation and almoststupefied. There was, however, not theleast doubt that he was fired.

He spent a very dismal evening afterward,for one thing, at least, was clear—hecould not go home to Boston and becomea burden on his mother. But the flour tradewas bad in Minneapolis just then, andbusiness in St. Paul did not seem much

better, so eventually he found employmentin the offices of a milling company inWinnipeg. He suffered from the extremecold during the winter there. The cold ofMassachusetts, as he discovered, is verydifferent from the iron frost which shutsdown on the Canadian prairie and neverslackens its grip for months together. Theclothing he had brought from Boston wasnot warm enough, and his small earningswould only provide him with shelter in thecheapest quarters. Still, he held on untiltrade grew slack in the early spring and hewas turned adrift again. This time he feltthat he had had enough of business. He hadheard and read of men who burrowed fortreasure in the snow-clad ranges, brokewild horses, and cleared the forests, out inthe farthest West. There was a romance in

that life surpassing anything that seemedlikely to be got out of the addition of flourinvoices or the licking of stamps, and hewrote a letter to an old friend of his deadfather, who lived on a ranch near PugetSound. It was some time before he got ananswer telling him rather tersely to comealong.

Frank started the day after he received it,and was now, he supposed, within a shortdistance of his journey's end. He hadnever seen his father's friend, and knewnothing of what he would be required todo at the ranch, though he fancied that allthat was necessary could readily belearned by an intelligent lad. In this,however, he was wrong.

Suddenly the steamer's whistle hurled a

great blast out across the waters, and,looking around, Frank saw, not far ahead,a long point strewn with rocks andstreaked with wisps of pines. There was,however, no sign of life on it, and heturned to a deck-hand who strode by.

"Can that be Bannington's?" he asked.

"Yes," the man informed him. "I guessthat's just what it is."

"But there's nobody about," objectedFrank.

The deck-hand grinned.

"Did you expect it was like Seattle or PortTownsend? There's a store to the place,and they've got a post-office back amongthe rocks. We lay off and whistle, and if

there's no sign of a shore boat she goes onagain."

He went forward with a jump as a mancame out of the pilot house with a pair ofglasses in his hand.

"Run up slow," he ordered. "There'snothing coming yet."

The big side-wheels beat more slowly andthe whistle called again, but there wasstill only the ruffled blue water with whiteflecks on it and the rapidly rising pines.Frank watched them anxiously, for he hadonly about two dollars in his pocket, andit seemed quite possible that he might becarried on to Seattle, in which case he hadnot the faintest notion as to how he was toget back. It was quite certain that he could

not pay any more steamboat fares.

A minute or two later the man with theglasses raised his hand as a sail crept outaround the point, and the big wheelsstopped. The strip of canvas grew into agaff mainsail and a jib; the hull beneath itemerged at intervals from the littletumbling seas; and it became apparent toFrank for the first time that it was blowingrather hard. The sail seemed to bedripping and he could see the spray flyingabout the shapeless figure at the helm.Then the steamboat officer motioned tohim.

"Are you getting off here?" he asked.

Frank answered rather dubiously that thiswas his intention.

"Then you'd better get down on to thewheel-case bracings with your grip. Idon't know how they're going to take youoff, but I guess they'll shoot her up head towind and you'll have to jump."

Frank got out on the guard-framing on theafter side of the wheel and watched theboat drive by, swung up on a little seasome distance away. Half of her hullseemed to be under water, though the forepart of it was hove up streaming into theair. She rolled wildly with her bigmainsail squared right out and the jib,which hung slack, dripping water. Thenshe came round and headed for thesteamer, lying down all slanted to oneside, while the water sluiced along her leedeck, and Frank made out a boy crouching

under the sail with a rope in his hand. Itseemed to him that the boat mustinevitably ram the steamer and smash inher bows. Then a hail reached him.

"Hello, pilot house! Shove her astern soonas we're clear of you!"

Somebody shouted an answer, and thesteamer swung out, lifting a row of wetplates out of the water and burying themagain with a gurgling splash. A glancearound showed Frank a deck-handstanding behind him with a long, spikedpole and a crowd of passengers leaningover the rails of the deck above. How hewas to get into the boat he did not know,for the thing was beginning to lookdifficult. Then there was another shoutfrom the figure at her helm:

"That you, Whitney?"

Frank waved his hand in answer, hastilygrabbing up the small bag which containedhis few possessions. The wheel-casingsank again into a ridge of frothing brinewhich swirled about his feet, and he feltthat it would be a good deal wiser toclimb back to the deck above and go on toSeattle. This, however, was out of thequestion, even if there had not been somany passengers looking on, and it wascomforting to remember that he couldswim a little. The next moment the deck-hand touched his arm.

"I'll sling your grip aboard her as sheshoots," he said. "Then jump, and stick toanything you get your hands on."

The boat was now only seven or eightyards away, nearer the steamer's stern, butas Frank gazed at her she suddenlyswayed upright with a frantic thrashing ofcanvas, and shot forward head to windbeneath the vessel's side. The next momenthis bag went hurtling through the air, andhe heard the deck-hand shout something inhis ear. Then he set his lips and jumped.

He struck something hard with his knees,and was conscious of a sudden chill as thebrine washed over one leg, but he had hishands clenched tight on a strip of wetwood, and somebody seized him by theshoulder. Making a determined effort hedragged himself up on the narrow sidedeck, and fell in a heap into the bottom ofthe boat. When he scrambled to his feet

again the big side-wheel was splashingamidst a welter of churned-up foam as thesteamer pushed away from them, and, inthe boat, the boy he had already noticedwas tugging desperately at a rope.

"Get hold and heave!" he cried.

Frank did as the boy directed. Then thehelmsman waved his hand.

"Not too flat! Belay at that! Get down hereaft, both of you!"

Frank staggered aft a pace or two, andsitting down breathless and drippinggazed about him. The boat looked a gooddeal bigger than she had appeared fromthe steamer, and, as a matter of fact, shewas a half-decked sloop of about twenty-

four feet in length. Just then she wasslanted well down on one side, with thewater foaming along her depressed deckand showers of spray beating into her overher weather bow, while the jib above herbowsprit every now and then plunged intothe short, white-topped seas. Thereseemed to be some water inside her, for itwashed up above the floorings at everyheave. In a few moments Frank hadrecovered his breath sufficiently to lookaround at his companions. One was a boyof about his own age who smiled at him.He had a bronzed skin and a kindlyexpression, and looked lean and wiry.

"You're Frank Whitney?" asked the boy.

Frank acknowledged that this was hisname, and the other proceeded to

introduce himself and his companion.

"I'm Harry Oliver, and, as you're going tostay with us, we've got to hit it offtogether."

Then he turned and indicated the ruddy-faced, red-haired man who held the helm.

"This is Jake, one of the smartest choppersand trailers on the Pacific Slope. Therearen't many of the boys who could havepicked you off that steamboat in a breezeof wind as he did."

"Oh, pshaw!" said the helmsman with agrin.

Neither of them had said anything strikingin the way of welcome, but Frank feltquickly at ease with them. As a rule, the

new acquaintances he had made inbusiness farther east seemed to expect himto recognize their superiority, or, at least,to understand that it was a privilege to beadmitted into their society. His presentcompanions, however, somehow made itplain that as long as he was willing to becommonly civil there was no reason whythey should not get on well together, forwhich he was thankful, though he felt thatany attempt to put on airs with them wouldprobably lead to trouble.

"How far is it to your father's ranch?" heasked presently.

"Twelve miles," responded Harry. "Witha head wind like this one, it means fromeighteen to twenty-four miles' sailing. Itdepends, for one thing, on Jake's steering."

"Thirty, sure," broke in the helmsman, "ifyou had the tiller."

"How's that?" asked Frank.

"Know anything about sailing?"

Frank confessed his ignorance, and Jakenodded to Harry.

"Show him," he said. "He has got to learnand you can teach the fellow who'll allowhe doesn't know anything. The kind we'veno use for is the one that knows too much."

Harry laid a wet finger on the hove-upweather deck.

"Now," he began, "a boat or a ship undersail can go straight to the place she'sbound for as long as she has the wind

anywhere from right behind her to a littleforward on her side. In fact, as she'll lieup within a few points of the wind, there'sonly a small segment of the circle youcan't sail her straight into."

He traced a circle on the deck and thenplaced his finger over about a quarter ofthe circumference of it.

"She won't go there."

"But supposing you want to?"

"Then, if the wind's ahead, you have tobeat." He drew two lines across the circleat right angles to each other and laid hisfinger at the end of one. "Say we're here atnorth and the cove we're going to liesabout south. Well, you get your sheets in

flat—same as we have them now—andyou sail up this way, at this angle to thewind." He ran a slanting line across thecircle until it touched the rim. "That bringsyou here; then you come round, and go offat the same angle on the opposite tack,which brings you right up to the cove. Youcan do it in two long tacks, or—and it'sthe same thing—in a lot of little ones, eachat the same angle to the wind; but howmany degrees there are in that angle andwhen you get there depends on how yoursails are cut and how smart you are atsteering her."

Frank understood the gist of it, but therewere one or two difficulties, and he wasnot ashamed to ask a question:

"What makes her go slantways against the

wind? Why doesn't it blow her back, orsideways?"

"It does," Jake broke in dryly, "if you don'tsail her right, or it blows hard enough."

"What makes a kite go up slantwaysagainst, or on, the wind, which is the samething in sailing?" continued Harry."Because with the wind and the string bothpulling her, that's the line of leastresistance." He paused, and addeddeprecatingly, "I was at school at Tacomaand as I'd a notion I might take upsurveying, they pounded some facts intome that made this kind of thing easier toget hold of. A boat goes ahead on the windbecause, considering the shape of her, it'sthe easiest way; and this is what stops hergoing off sideways to lee." He kicked a

high narrow box which ran along themiddle of the boat. "It holds thecenterboard—a big plate that's down deepin the water now. Before the wind couldshove her off sideways—and it does alittle—it would have to press that flatplate sideways through the water."

Frank made a sign of comprehension.

"That's about the size of it," said Jake."Now I guess it would be more useful ifyou got some of the water out of her."

Harry, who explained that there wassomething wrong with the pump, pulled upone of the flooring boards and invitedFrank to dip a bucket into the cavity andhand it up to him when it was full. Frankendeavored to do so, but found it difficult,

for the water which surged to and fro asthe sloop plunged left the bottom of thehole almost dry one moment and the nextcame splashing back so rapidly that beforehe could get a fair scoop with the bucket ithad generally gone again. Besides, themotion every now and then flung him offhis knees; but he toiled on with his headdown for nearly half an hour, when ahorrible nausea mastered him and hestaggered to the foam-swept lee coaming.For the next ten minutes he felt desperatelyunhappy, and when he turned around againthere was a grin on the faces of hiscompanions.

"She'll do," said Harry. "You want to lookto weather and get the wind on your face.That's the best way to keep a hold on your

dinner."

Frank suddenly remembered that he hadhad no dinner. He had had only a dollar ortwo left in his possession, and afterconsidering the steamboat tariff he haddecided to dispense with the meal. In spiteof this fact and the unpleasant sensationshe felt, he was conscious of a certainsatisfaction with his new surroundings.The seasickness would pass, andgrappling with the winds of heaven andthe charging seas seemed a finer thing thanadding up the price of flour or stickingstamps on letters. Here man's skill, nerveand quickness were pitted against thevariable elements, and Frank had asuspicion—which, as it happened, wasquite justified—that if Jake made a

blunder the next white-topped comberwould come foaming across the bows ofthe craft. It was only his cool judgmentand ready hand on the tiller that swung hersafely over them.

Raising himself a little he glanced ahead.The steamer and her smoke trail hadvanished some time ago, and the whiteOlympians had faded, too. Evening wasdrawing on. The sky was now a dismal,dingy gray, and the leaden-blue water wasstreaked with flecks and curls of foam. Itseemed to him that the sea was steadilygetting higher, and there was not the leastdoubt that the sloop was slanting moresharply and throwing the spray all overher.

"It looks bad up yonder, doesn't it?" he

queried in anxious tones.

"I allow we might have more wind by andby," Jake answered laconically. "Seems tome she has about all the sail she can standup to on her now."

He had scarcely finished speaking when acomber curled over at its top rose upclose ahead, and the boat went into it tothe mast. Part of it poured over theforward head ledge into the open well,and the rest sluiced foaming down theslanted deck to lee, through which shelurched clear, with the water splashingand gurgling inside her.

"We'll heave another reef down rightaway," said Jake. "Get forward, Harry,and claw that headsail off her."

The boy seized a wet sail that lay in thewell, and as he crawled forward with itthe sloop rose almost upright, with hermainsail banging and thrashing furiously.When he loosed a rope the jib ran partlydown its stay, and then jammed, filling outand emptying with sudden shocks thatshook the stout spar beneath it and thereeling mast. Harry, however, crawled outon the bowsprit with his feet bracedagainst a wire—a lean, dripping figurethat dipped in the tumbling seas—andFrank, seeing that he was struggling vainlywith the sail, scrambled forward to helphim, sick as he was. Water flowed abouthis knees on the plunging deck, flyingropes whipped him, and the spray washurled into his face, but he could think ofno reason why the Western boy should do

more than he could. He crouched down,hauling savagely on a rope at which Harrypointed, and by and by the sail fell uponboth of them. They dragged it in, made itfast, and set a smaller one in place of it,after which they floundered aft to whereJake was struggling with the mainsail.

He had hauled down what Frankafterward learned was the leach of it, andwas now standing with his toes on thecoaming and his chest upon the boom,pulling down the hard, drenched canvasand tying the little bits of rope that hung ina row from it around the boom.

"Hustle!" he shouted. "Get those reef-points in!"

Frank took his place with his companion,

and tried not to look at the frothing waterclose beneath him as he leaned out on thejerking boom. For the most part, the bigspar lay fairly quiet, but now and then thecanvas above it shook itself with a bang. Itcost him a strenuous effort to drag eachhandful of it down in turn, and hediscovered afterward that he had brokentwo of his nails. He lost his breath, theperspiration started from every pore in hisskin, and he was sick and dizzy, but hemanaged to hold on. At last it wasfinished, and soon afterward Jake, drivingthe sloop on her course again, turned toHarry.

"She'll make nothing of it against thisbreeze," he said. "We'll up-helm and lookfor shelter under Tourmalin."

Harry, bracing himself against the strain,let a rope run through the clatteringblocks, the bow swung around, and themotion became a little easier.

"We'll be snug beneath the pines in anhour," said Jake, nodding reassuringly.

Frank found the time quite long enough.He was wet and dizzy, and the way the bigfrothing ridges came tumbling up out of thegrowing darkness was rather terrifying.They heaved themselves up above theboat, and every time that one foamedabout her she slanted alarmingly over toleeward. At last, when it had grown quitedark, a shadowy blur that grew into awisp of tall pines rose up ahead, and aminute or two later there was an almostbewildering change from the rolling and

plunging as the sloop ran into smoothwater. Her sails dropped, the anchor chainrattled out, and by and by they were allsitting in the little cabin, which wasscarcely three feet high, and Jake wascramming bark and kerosene rags into thestove.

Half an hour later Frank forced himself toeat a little canned beef and drink somecoffee, and then Harry told him he couldlie down on what seemed to be amoderately dry sail. He had scarcely doneso when he fell asleep. Jake, who hadbeen watching him, turned the lantern sothat the light fell on his face.

"He was mighty sick," he observed, akindly smile lighting up his ruggedfeatures, "but he stayed with it through the

reefin'. Your father should makesomething of him. I guess he'll do."

CHAPTER IITHE BUSH

Frank awoke a little before daylight,feeling considerably better. The nauseaand dizziness had gone, and the sloopseemed to be lying almost still, which wasa relief to him. Then he noticed by thelight of a lamp that his companions' placeswere empty, and presently he heard themtalking in the well. Crawling out throughthe narrow doorway, he stood upshivering in the coldness of the dawn.

There were dim black trees and shadowyrocks close in front of him, with a white

wash about the latter, for a smooth swellworked in around a point from openwater. He could hear the rumble of thesurf upon the reefs, and though he couldscarcely feel a breath of wind upon hisface the wailing of the black pinessuggested that it was blowing still. Hecould smell the clean resinous scent ofthem and it seemed to him that they weresinging wild, barbaric songs. Afterward,when he knew them better, he learned thatthe pines and their kin, the cedars andbalsams and redwoods, are never silentaltogether. Even when their fragrancesteals out heavy and sweet as honey underthe fierce sunshine of a windless day, onecan hear faint elfin whisperings high upamong their somber spires. Then he sawthat Jake was standing on the side deck,

apparently gazing at the white surf aboutthe end of the point.

"No," he mused, "she wouldn't face it. Thebreeze hasn't fallen any, and the sea'll besteeper. Guess you'd better leave me here,and take the Indian trail."

Harry agreed with this.

"We'll get off as soon as we've hadbreakfast; and, as I did the cookingyesterday, it's your turn this morning.There's still a little fire in the stove."

Jake disappeared into the cabin, andpresently came out again and was fillinghis pipe when Harry sprang up suddenlyon the deck.

"Hello!" he cried. "There's a schooner

yonder!"

It was growing a little clearer and Frank,turning around, saw a tall black spire ofcanvas cutting against the sky. He madeout a frothy whiteness beneath it where theswell broke on the vessel's bows, and thesight of her singularly stirred hisimagination. She had appeared sosuddenly, probably from behind the point,and she looked ghostly in the uncertainlight. She ran in under her headsails andboom-foresail with her mainmast bare,rising higher and growing clearer all thewhile. By and by there was a splash, and avoice broke through the wailing of thetrees.

"Three fathom," it said. "You can luff herin a little."

Harry seemed about to hail her, but Jakegripped his arm, and they all stood silentwhile the schooner crept up abreast ofthem. The little sloop, lying with theshadowy land close behind her, hadevidently not been seen. Then the vesselcommenced to fade again, and in a fewminutes she had vanished altogether.

"It looks as if there might have been sometruth in old Sandberg's tale," Harryremarked thoughtfully. "It's kind of curiousthat halibut fisherman from Bannington'ssaid he saw her too."

"He said she'd a white stripe round her.Sandberg allowed it was green," objectedJake.

"That wouldn't prove anything. They could

soon paint the stripe another color."

"What would they want to do it for?"

"What does a schooner want running inhere? There's no freight to be picked upnearer than Port Townsend."

"That," said Jake dryly, "is just what Idon't know. What's more, I don't want to.She might have run in for bark forcooking, or maybe for water."

Harry laughed. "If she has come downfrom Seattle they'd get plenty cordwoodor, if they wanted it, stove coal there, andI guess a skipper wouldn't waste a fairwind like this one to save two or threedollars. The thing's mighty curious. Thatvessel's been seen twice, anyway, and

nobody seems to know where she comesfrom or where she goes."

"Well," Jake observed stolidly, "shedoesn't belong to you or me, and if youwant your breakfast it should be ready."

They crawled into the cabin, and whenthey had made a meal Jake sculled thesloop in near enough to the steep beach forthem to jump. Then he flung a small packetafter them.

"It's the most I can spare you, as I mayn'tget a slant round the reefs until to-morrow," he said. "Anyway, it will doyou two meals, and you ought to fetch theranch by sundown. You want to head rightup the valley until you strike a big log thatlies across the river. When you get over,

cross the neck of the ridge where it'slowest. You'll see the clearing from thetop of it."

Harry said this was plain enough andmoved away across the shingle, Frankfollowing him cautiously when theyreached the fringe of driftwood whichdivided beach from bush. Whitened logsand barked branches were scattered aboutin tangled confusion where the water hadleft them, and it was with difficulty thatthe lads scrambled over the barrier. ThenFrank stopped breathless, with one legwet to the knee and a rent in his trousers.

"It's pretty rough going, if this is anaverage sample," he panted.

"You'll find it a good deal worse before

we reach the ranch," Harry answered witha laugh.

He strode forward, and Frank lookedaround with wonder when they plungedinto the bush, for he had never seen awood of that kind except in pictures of thegiant Californian Sequoia. There are, ofcourse, pines in the eastern states, but theyseemed pigmies by comparison with thesetremendous conifers which were alreadytall and stately when Columbus sailedfrom Spain. They ran up far above the boyin huge cylindrical columns before theyflung out their first great branches, whichmet and crossed like the ribs of high-vaulted arches, holding up a roof of duskygreenery. Beneath, there was a dimshadow, and a tangle of such luxuriant

vegetation as is seen, excepting in thetropics, probably only upon the warm,damp Pacific Slope.

There was another difference which struckFrank. The eastern woods that he had seenwere clear of wreckage, for lumber andfuel are valuable there, and the ax hadkept them clean, but this forest was strewnwith huge logs and branches, some ofwhich evidently had fallen years ago.Thickets of all kinds had sprung upbetween, and these were filled with tuftsof unrolling fern which Harry told himwould grow six or eight feet high. Throughthe midst of it all there twisted a narrowpath which Frank remembered Jake hadmentioned as the Indian trail.

"Have you Indians here?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," said Harry, "we have a fewSiwashes, though there are more of themup in Canada. They seem fond of Indiansthere."

"Are they quiet?"

Harry chuckled. "You don't want to getthem mixed with the redskins of the plains,though I suppose where they're not wipedout they're pretty quiet too. These fellowsare a different breed. Most of them aresailors and fishermen, and they dressmuch the same as you and I do. They comeup these rivers now and then after thesalmon, and they made this trail. You cantell that by the looks of it."

"How?"

"It goes in and out, and where there's anobstacle it winds around. That's thedifference between a white man's and anIndian's nature. The Siwash strikes a bigfir log, and he walks around it, if he has tokeep on doing it for months. It doesn'tseem to worry him that he's wasting aminute or two every time. Then the whiteman comes along and gets to work withhis ax. He goes right straight through. It'sborn in him."

Frank had made a sign of understanding.He knew something of the history of theold great nations as well as that of hisown country, and he remembered anotherdominant race that ages ago blazed itstrails from Rome across all Europe andfar into Asia. It was characteristic of those

men that, turning aside for no obstacle,they went straight, and long after theirpower had perished their roads remained,running, as the crow flies, throughmorasses and over mountains and rivers.His own people had done much the same,whittling west with the axes through theeastern woods, and then pushing on withtheir wagons across the lonely plains,until they drove the steel track through thesnow-clad Rockies and over the Sierras.They died in shoals on the journey, but itwas the march of a nation, and alwaysmore came on, the lumberman after thetrapper, the track-grader on the cowboy'sheels, with ranches and farms andfactories growing up along the line. Nowthey had reached the Pacific, and Frankwondered vaguely whether that would be

the limit, or where they were going then. Itwas, however, a question that seemed toobig for him.

"This country's rough on one's clothes," hesaid ruefully, looking down at a secondtear in his trousers.

Harry laughed. He was dressed in oldduck overalls, long boots, and a batteredgray hat.

"That's a fact. What you want to wear isleather. There were two sports from backEast came out to hunt last fall, and theyhad their things made of some patent clothwarranted to turn water and resist anythorns. Jake went along to cook for them."He paused with a chuckle and added,"They were wearing their blankets

because they hadn't any clothes left whenhe brought them back."

They went on for an hour or so until theycame out upon the bank of a frothing riverwhich roared among the rocks in ashallow cañon. There was no way ofreaching the water, had they desired it,and, as Harry had predicted, the trail theyfollowed grew rapidly worse. In places itwound perilously along narrow ledgesbeneath a dripping wall of rock, in othersit led over banks of stones which hadslipped down from the heights above. Theboys made very slow progress until noon,when they stopped for a meal from thepackage Jake had thrown them. While theyate it Frank looked down again at hisboots, which were already badly ripped.

"They were new just before I leftWinnipeg," he said. "In some ways thepeople in Europe are ahead of us. Thereare one or two countries where they maketheir shoes of wood."

Harry was too busy to make an answer,and when he had finished eating hecarefully tied up the packet, which wasnow considerably smaller, before heturned to his companion.

"We'd better be hitting the trail," he said."Unless we can make the ranch bysundown, we'll get mighty little supper."

They pushed on for a couple of hours, stillfloundering and stumbling among therocks. Harry stopped for a moment wherethe bush was thinner and pointed to a big

gap in a ridge of hillside three or fourmiles away.

"That's the neck," he said. "The log wecross the river on is somewhere abreast ofit. We surely can't have passed the thing."

They went on a little farther, but there wasno sign of the log. Presently Harry stoppedagain with an exclamation, catching aglimpse of a great branchless fir whichrose out of a welter of foam in the bottomof the cañon.

"There she is," he exclaimed, "jammed inwhere we certainly can't get down to her.It will be difficult to go straight this time,but we'll have to try."

Frank drew a pace or two nearer the edge

of the cañon, and felt a creepy shiver runthrough him as he looked down. The rockhe stood upon arched out a little over theshadowy hollow, through the bottom ofwhich the wild waters seethed andclamored. He supposed that he stood atleast sixty feet above them. The rock onthe opposite side also projected, so thatthe rift was wider at the bottom than at thetop. In one place, however, the crest of ithad broken away and plunged into thegulf, leaving a short slope down whichstones and soil had slid. Its lower edgelay about twelve feet beneath him, thoughthe distance would have been rather less ifit could have been measured horizontally.

"How are we to get across?" he askedhesitatingly.

"Jump," said Harry curtly. "Can't you doit?"

"No," Frank answered with somereluctance.

"Scared?" asked Harry, looking at himcuriously.

"I am, but it's not that altogether."

"You didn't seem to want sand when youjumped into the boat."

Frank stood silent a moment or two with aflush on his face. Had he been forced tomake the choice a year earlier, heprobably would have jumped and chancedit from shame of appearing afraid or ofowning his inferiority to another, but hehad learned a little sense since then.

"It was different then," he explained. "Iwas scared—badly scared—but I felt Icould do the thing if I forced myself to it.Now I'm almost certain that I can't."

"Yes," owned Harry, thoughtfully, "that'squite right. One hasn't much use for thefellow whose great idea is to keep himselffrom getting hurt, but when a thing's toobig for you it's best to own it." Hedismissed the subject with a wave of hishand. "The question is how we're going toget across, and my notion is that we'dbetter head right up into the bush. Theriver will be getting smaller, and it forkssomewhere. Each branch will probably beonly half the size, and I guess the cañoncan't go on very far."

It occurred to Frank that considering the

nature of the country it would besingularly inconvenient if the cañon wenton for another league or two, particularlyas they had only a handful of provisionsleft, but he followed his companion, andthey stumbled and floundered forward allthe afternoon. There was now no trail tofollow, and where they were not forced toscramble over slippery rock, fallen treesand thorny brakes barred their way. Still,there was nothing to indicate that thecañon was dying out, and where theycould have reached the water it eitherfoamed furiously between rocky ledges orspun round in horrible black eddies on theverge of a wild, yeasty turmoil. Theylooked at these spots and abandoned anythought of swimming.

Evening came at length, and they sat downbeneath a big cedar where the roar of theriver rang about them in deep pulsations.A chilly wind was wailing in the tops ofthe pines, and trails of white mistcommenced to drift in and out among theirtrunks, which showed through itspectrally. Harry gazed about him with arueful grin on his face.

"If I'd an ax, one or two matches, and acouple of blankets, I'd make you quitesnug. Then with a few groceries, a kettle,and a spider, we'd have all any one couldreasonably want."

"You haven't got them," Frank commented."Wouldn't it save time if you wished for afurnished house?"

"I'd 'most as soon have an ax. Then I couldmake a shelter that would, anyway, keepus comfortable enough, and when I'd cutyou a good layer of spruce twigs youwouldn't want a better bed. If I'd a rifle Imight get a blue grouse for supper.Still"—and he laughed—"as you say, wehaven't got them, and we couldn't do anycooking without matches. Curious, isn't it,what a lot of things you want, and that inmost cases you have to get another fellowto make them?"

Frank agreed with this, but he had neverrealized the truth of it as he did just then. Itwas clear that the man who made all hewanted must live as the Indians or grossersavages did, and that it was only thedivision of employments that provided

one with the comforts of civilization.Every man, it seemed, lived by the toil ofanother, for while on the Pacific Slopethey turned the forests into dressed lumberand raised fruit and wheat, the clothes theywore, and their saws and plows and axes,came from the East. One could clear aranch on Puget Sound only because a hostof other men puddled liquid iron orpounded white-hot steel in the forges of,for instance, Pennsylvania. Frank wouldvery much have liked to provide hiscompanion with the fruit of somebodyelse's labor in the shape of a few matches,which would have made a cheerful firepossible.

In the meanwhile Harry had opened thepacket and divided its contents equally.

"There's not enough to keep any over," heobserved. "We have got to make the ranchto-morrow."

They ate the little that was left them, andthen set to work to search for a youngspruce from which they might obtain a fewbranches, but they failed to find one smallenough even to climb. Coming back theylay down among the cedar sprays, whichseemed rather wet, and it was some timebefore Frank could go to sleep. He wasstill hungry, and the roar of the river andthe strangeness of his surroundings had apeculiar effect on him. The mist, whichwas getting thicker, rested clammily on hisface, and crawled in denser wreathsamong the black trunks which stood outhere and there from the encircling gloom.

Drops of moisture began to fall upon himfrom the branches, and once or twice hecautiously moved an elbow until ittouched his companion. It was consolingto feel that he was not alone.

At length, however, he fell asleep, andawaking in the gray light of dawnstaggered to his feet when Harry calledhim, feeling very miserable. He waschilled to the bone. His shoulders ached,his knees ached, and one hip-joint achedworse than all, while his energy andcourage seemed to have melted out of him.As a matter of fact, nobody unused to itfeels very animated on getting up beforesunrise from a bed on the damp ground.

"As we have to reach home to-night, wemay as well get a move on," announced

Harry. "It's about four o'clock now, and itwon't be dark until after eight."

The prospect of a sixteen hours' marchwith nothing to eat all the while did notappeal to Frank. It was the first time in hislife that he had felt downright hungry, andthis fast had made him the more sensitiveto an unpleasant pain in his left side.

"If you're not sure about the way, wouldn'tit be better if we went back to Jake?" hesuggested. "It seems a pity we didn't thinkof it earlier."

"I did," Harry answered smilingly. "Thetrouble is that Jake would clear out theminute the wind dropped a little or shiftedenough to let him get round the head.Besides, he'd have mighty little to eat if he

were still lying behind the point when wegot there. When your letter reached uswe'd hardly time to run down toBannington's to meet the steamer, so I justgrabbed what I could find, and we sailedin a few minutes."

Frank said nothing further, and theypushed on doggedly into the shadowybush. It was wrapped in a thick whitemist, and every brake they smashedthrough dripped with moisture. Except forthe clamor of the river, everything waswonderfully still—so still, indeed, that theheavy silence was beginning to pall uponFrank, who suddenly turned to hiscompanion.

"Isn't there anything alive besidesourselves in this bush?" he asked.

"That," replied Harry, "is more than I cantell you. We have bears, and a few timberwolves, besides two kinds of deer andseveral kinds of grouse, and some of themare quite often about, but there are belts ofbush where for some reason you can't findone."

They went on again, following up the riverfor an hour or two. In the meanwhile themist melted, and Frank could see theendless ranks of mighty trees stretch awaybefore him until they merged into ablurred columnar mass. At last the cañon,which was growing shallower, forked offinto two branches, and they followed onebranch until a broken rocky slope led themdown to the water. It was a dull greenishcolor and foamed furiously past them

among great stones. There was no meansof ascertaining how deep it was and theboys looked at each other dubiously for amoment or two. Then Harry made a littlegesture.

"We have to get across," he said.

Frank, without waiting for his resolutionto fail him, plunged in on the instant, and acouple of steps took him well above hisknees. The water seemed icy cold. As amatter of fact, it was mostly melted snow,and the drainage from the glaciers hadgiven it the curious green color. Thegravel commenced to slide away beneathFrank's feet, and by the time the foam wasswirling round his waist he was gaspingand struggling savagely. There was a big,eddying pool not far away and, though he

could swim a little, he had no desire to beswept into it. A moment or two later hewas driven against a rock with a violencethat shook all the breath out of him. Heclung to it desperately until Harry camefloundering by and held out his hand. Theymade a yard or two together and thenHarry slipped suddenly, jerking Frank offhis feet as he rolled over in the flood.Frank went down overhead and as he felthimself being swept along toward theeddy he exerted all his energy in a struggleto regain his footing. He clutched at arock, but the swirling waters only carriedhim past. Half dazed and breathless hewas flung against another rock. This time,with a great effort, he managed to hold on,and when he stood up, gasping, he foundthat the water now reached only to his

knees. In another minute he and Harrywere safe on dry land.

Half an hour later they crossed the othercreek, and soon afterward Frank sat downlimply in the warm sunlight, which at lastcame filtering between the thinner trees.

"I must have a rest," he gasped.

"There's just this trouble," Harry pointedout. "If you rest any time you won't want toget up again."

"If I go on now I'll drop in another fewhundred yards," declared Frank.

It was probably no more than the truth. Hehad been clever at athletics and open airgames, but, as it happened, he had beenable to learn them easily. Besides, he had

been indulged by his mother and had beenrather a favorite at school, and as oneresult of it he fell short of the hardihoodusually acquired by the boy who haseverything against him. After all, an hour'sexercise in a gymnasium or an hour and ahalf spent over a game amidst applauseand excitement is a very different thingfrom the strain of unrelaxing effort thatmust be made all day when there isnobody to cheer. He did not want to rest,but his worn-out body rebelled andmastered him.

"Aren't—you—played out?" he stammeredweakly.

"Oh, yes," replied Harry with a grin."Still, in this country you're quite oftendead played out and have to go on again."

"But if you can't?"

"Then," said Harry dryly, "you have tokeep on trying until you're able to."

It struck Frank that this might be painfuland his heart sank. After a while he triedanother question:

"Don't people get lost in the bush everynow and then?"

"Why, yes," was the answer. "There was aman strayed off from a picnic just outsideone of the cities not long ago and theydidn't find him until a month or twoafterward. He was lying dead not a milefrom a graded road."

Frank shivered inwardly at this.

"Still, I suppose you generally havesomething to guide you—the moss on thenorth side of the trees? I've heard thatpeople who don't know about it walkaround in rings."

"I must have gone pretty straight the onlytime I was lost," laughed Harry; "and it'smighty hard to find moss in some parts ofthe bush. In others it's all around the trees.I'd rather have a big peak as a guide. Youhave heard about people walking round,but I wonder whether you have heard thatwhen they're badly scared they'll walkright across a trail without seeing it?"

"Is that a fact?" Frank asked inastonishment.

"Sure!" said Harry. "A lost man will

sometimes walk across a logging roadwithout the slightest idea that he's doing it.Anyway, I know where the homesteadlies. It's only a question of holding outuntil we reach it."

Frank was sincerely pleased to hear this,and by and by he rose with an effort andthey went on again.

CHAPTER IIITHE RANCH

Dusk was not far away when the boys,stumbling down a low hillside, came intosight of an oblong clearing in the forestwith a wooden house standing on one sideof it. That was all Frank noticed, for hefound it difficult to keep himself on hisfeet, and his sight seemed hazy. Indeed, hefell down once or twice in the steeperplaces, and had some trouble in getting up;and after that he had only a confusedrecollection of crossing an open space andentering a dwelling. A man shook hands

with him, and a woman in a print dressmade him sit down in a low chair beforeshe set out a bountiful meal. Soon after hehad eaten a considerable share of it Harryled him into a very little room where abed like a shelf with a side to it was fixedagainst one wall. Five minutes later hewas blissfully unconscious of his recentpainful experience.

The sun was streaming in through thewindow when he awoke, feelingwonderfully refreshed, and, dressinghimself in some overalls which had beenlaid across the foot of his bed, he walkedout into the larger general room. It haduncovered walls of logs and a veryroughly boarded floor, and there seemedto be little in it besides a stove, a table

and several chairs.

A brown-faced man with a little gray inhis hair sat at one end of the table and atthe other end sat a woman resembling himand of about the same age. Harry, sittingbetween them, was apparently engaged innarrating their adventures. Frank, whotook the place laid out for him, found thathis supper had not spoiled his breakfast,for he fell upon the pork, potatoes, driedapricots, hot cakes and syrup with anexcellent appetite. When the meal wasover, the man led Frank into another roomand filling his pipe asked him to sit down.

"We'd better have a talk," he said. "Youcan take the chair yonder."

Frank looked at him more closely when he

sat down. Mr. Oliver, who was dressed induck overalls, was rather spare in figure,though he looked wiry. His manner wasquiet, and his voice was that of aneducated man, but he had somewhatpiercing gray eyes.

"I had a sincere regard for your father," hebegan. "On that account alone I should beglad to have you here; but first of all wehad better understand each other. Youmentioned that you had been in business inMinneapolis and afterward in Winnipeg.Didn't you like it?"

"No, sir," replied Frank, who felt that itwould be wiser to answer carefully anyquestions this man might ask. "Still, thatwasn't exactly why I gave it up, though"—and he hesitated—"to say I gave it up isn't

quite correct."

"If I remember, you called it being fired,in your letter," Mr. Oliver suggested witha twinkle in his eyes. "What led up tothat?"

"Slack trade in the last case. I'd like tothink it was only the grudge a bullyingclerk had against me in the other."

"Then, if you had been allowed, youwould have stayed with the millingbusiness, though you didn't care for it?"

"Yes," responded Frank. "Anyway, I'dhave stayed until I could have got hold ofsomething I liked better."

Mr. Oliver nodded in a way whichsuggested that he was pleased with the

answer.

"Well," he said, "that brings us to thequestion why you came out here. Was itbecause you had heard that it was a goodcountry for hunting and fishing?"

Frank's face flushed. "No, sir," he replied,"I wanted to earn a living, and Iunderstood that a"—he was going to say alive man, but thought better of it—"anyone who wasn't too particular couldgenerally come across something to doquickest in the West. In fact, I'd like tobegin at once. After buying my ticket andgetting odd meals I've only two or threedollars left."

"Two-fifty, to be precise. My sister tookyour clothes away to mend. Now, it's

possible that I might manage to get youinto the office of some lumber or generaltrading company in one of the cities. Howwould that do?"

"I'd rather go on to the land. I'd like to bea rancher."

"How much do you know about ranching?"

"Very little, but I could soon learn."

It was Frank's first blunder, and herealized it as he saw the gleam ofamusement in Mr. Oliver's eyes.

"It's by no means certain," commented thelatter. "There are men who can't learn touse the ax in a lifetime. We'll let it go atthat, and say you're willing to learn. Haveyou any idea of making money by

ranching?"

Frank thought a moment. "Well," he saidfinally, "I'd naturally wish to make some,but I don't think that counts for most withme. I'd rather have the kind of life I like."

"The trouble with a good many men is thatwhen they get it they find out they likesomething else. Quite sure that hunting andfishing aren't taking too prominent a placein your mind? If they are, I'd better tell youthat the favorite amusement in this countryis chopping down big trees. There'sanother fact that you must consider. Ittakes a good deal of money to buy a ranchand, unless it's already cleared, you haveto wait a long while before you get any ofthe money back. This place cost me aboutnine thousand dollars, one way or another,

and in all probability there's not abusiness on the Pacific Slope in which Iwouldn't get twice as much as I'm gettinghere for the money, though I've been here agood many years. Now what do youexpect to do with two dollars and a half?"

What he had heard had been somewhat ofa shock to Frank, and the question wasdifficult to answer.

"I might earn a little more by degrees, sir,"he said hopefully.

Mr. Oliver smiled at him encouragingly.

"It's possible; and there's cheaper landthan mine, while a smart man used to thecountry can often get hold of a smallcontract of some kind. Now I'll tell you

what we'll do. Wait a month, and then ifyou find that you like the life I'll hire youfor what anybody else would give you."

With that he arose, signifying that thediscussion was over, and Frank went outof doors and joined Harry in the clearing.The latter held a big handspike with anarched iron hook hinged to it, and heinvited Frank to assist him in rolling logs.

"It will give you some idea how a ranch iscleared," he said. "To begin with, you hadbetter take a look around."

Frank did so and first of all noticed therather rambling house, part of which wasbuilt of logs notched into one another atthe ends, though the rest, which hadevidently been added to it later, was of

sawed lumber. It was roofed with what hefancied were red cedar shingles. On theother side of it, carefully fenced off withtall split rails, stood orderly ranks oftrees, some in delicate pink and whiteblossom. Harry told him they were applesand prunes and peaches. Nearer him wereone or two fields of timothy grass andfresh green oats, and then more of thelatter growing among fern-engirdledstumps sawed off some six feet above theground. Beyond them, in turn, half-burnedbranches were strewn among anotherstretch of stumps, then there was a narrowbelt where great trees lately chopped layin tremendous ruin, and behind them againthe forest rose in an unbroken wall.

"Now," explained Harry, "you have the

whole thing in front of you, if you'll beginat the bush and work back toward thehouse. First you chop down the trees, thenyou burn them up and raise your first cropor two round the stumps. Afterward bydegrees you grub up the stumps and get theclean, tilled land. When it's been workeda few years it will grow almost anything."

"But where's the stock?" Frank asked. "Ihad a notion that a ranch was a placewhere you raised no end of horses orcattle."

"That's on the plains," laughed Harry. "Onthis side of the Rockies it's any piece ofcleared land with a house on it. At quite afew of the ranches they raise nothing butfruit. As you asked the question, though,our cattle are in the bush. They run there

and live on what they can find until weround them up. Now we'll get to work."

He turned away after a pair of brawnyoxen that were plodding leisurely acrossthe clearing, and in a little while theyhalted on the edge of what Harry calledthe slashing. This was a belt of fallentimber which ran around most of the openspace. As Frank gazed at the chaos ofgreat trunks and mighty branches he feltinclined to wonder how Mr. Oliver hadmanaged to get them down.

"What will you do with these?" he asked.

"Saw or chop off the bigger branches,"Harry answered. "Then we'll wait untilthe trunks are good and dry in the fall andput a fire to them. It will burn up all the

small stuff, and leave them like this."

He pointed to the rows of blackened andpartly burned logs which lay between theslashing and the half-cleared soil, andFrank noticed that most of them had beensawed into several pieces.

"Couldn't you sell them for lumber?" heinquired.

"No," replied Harry. "For one thing, it'squite a long way to the nearest mill andwe'd have to build a skidway for a mile ortwo down to the water. Besides, in ageneral way, it's only the redwood and redcedar that the mills have much use for."

Then he gave Frank a handspike that layclose by, and between them they prized up

one end of a log so that he could slip achain sling under it. The other end of thechain was attached to the yoke of the oxen,and when he called them the big white andred beasts hauled the log away until hestopped them and went back for another.Frank did not find much difficulty in this,but it was different when they had drawnsix or seven of the logs together and laidthem side by side. Harry said that the nextlot must go on top of the others, and Frankwas wondering how they were to get themthere, when his companion laid two orthree stout skids some distance apartagainst the first of the row. These, it wasevident, would serve as short, slantingbridges, but Frank was still not clear as tohow the next log could be propelled upthem.

When Harry brought it up he slipped thechain along toward its middle, though itcost the boys an effort to prize the mass upwith their handspikes, after which hemade one end of the chain fast on theopposite side of the row, around which heled the oxen. The other end he hooked totheir yoke, so that it now led doubledacross the row and around the trunk theywished to raise. He said that when thechain was pulled the log would roll up it.He next shouted to the oxen, who ploddedforward straining at the yoke, while heand Frank slipped their handspikes underopposite ends of the log.

"Heave!" he cried. "Send her up!"

Frank did his utmost, with the perspirationdripping from him and the veins on his

forehead swelling, but the ponderous massrolled very slowly up the skids, andseveral times he fancied it would drag theoxen backward and slide down on him.Indeed, for about half a minute it hungstationary, though Harry, who dared notdraw out his handspike, shouted franticencouragement to the straining beasts.Then it moved another inch or two, andone released skid shot up as though firedout of a gun when the log rolled upon thefirst of the preceding ones. They worked itwell across them, and then freeing thechain went back for another, thoughFrank's arms felt as if they had beenalmost pulled out of their sockets.

"You want somebody to keep the oxen upto it as well as two to heave, when the

logs are as big as these," said hiscompanion. "Still, some of the smallranchers do the whole thing alone."

Frank could not help wondering what kindof men these were, but in the meanwhilehe was obliged to bend all his thought onhis difficult task, which grew heavierwhen, having ranged the logs in twolayers, they commenced the third. Theskids were now too short to reach the topof the second tier without making theslope rather steep and Harry said that theymust cut some new ones. A couple of axeslay close by, and handing one to Frank hestrode into the bush and stopped in front ofa young fir.

"The butt ought to make a skid," he said."I'll leave you to get it down and I'll look

for another. You do it like this."

Spreading his feet apart and balancinghimself lightly, he swung the heavy, long-hafted ax above his head. The big blade,descending, buried itself in the trunk, androse with a flash when he wrenched itclear. This time he struck horizontally anda neat wedge-shaped chip flew out.

"Now," he said, handing the ax to Frank,"you can go ahead."

He turned away and Frank swung the axexperimentally once or twice. The thinglooked easy. Whirling up the blade, hestruck with all his might. It came downinto the notch Harry had made, but it wasthe flat of it that struck, and, while the haftjarred his hands, the blade glanced and

just missed his leg. This appearedsomewhat extraordinary, and he was alittle more cautious when he tried again.He hit the tree fairly this time, but almost afoot above the cut, and he wascommencing to feel indignant when hedragged the steel out again, which in itselfwas not particularly easy. He then struckhorizontally, but the blade did not seem togo in at all, and at the next attempt the axburied itself in the soil, just grazing hisboot. This steadied him, for he had nodesire to lame himself for life. Shorteninghis hold upon the haft, he used it after themanner of a domestic chopper, until atlength, when his hands were blistered andhe was very hot, the tree went down witha crash. Then turning around he saw Harrywatching him with a look of amusement.

"Have you got yours down?" Frank asked.

"Oh, yes," Harry replied, "and another.I've chopped them through for skids." Hepointed to the hacked and splintered log."Looks as if something had been eating it,doesn't it?"

Frank's face grew rather red. "Youcouldn't expect me to drop into it all atonce. Give me a week or two to pick upthe swing and balance of it."

"A week or two!" Harry seemed toaddress the clustering firs. "They sureraise smart folks back East."

"How long were you learning?" retortedFrank.

"Well," said Harry thoughtfully, "youcould call it most of twelve years. I usedto go whittling with a toy tomahawk soonafter I could walk. Of course, theyconfiscated the thing now and then. Onceit was after I'd just brought down a one-leg round table."

"Did you ever cut yourself?"

Harry rolled up his trousers and pointed toa big white mark below his knee.

"I could show you two or three more ofthem," he commented dryly. "There arequite a few bush ranchers who haven't gotall their toes on."

He cut a skid from the butt of the log, andwhen they went back to the pile the workwhich before had been hard now becamemore or less dangerous. They had to prizeand sometimes shoulder up the ponderousmasses of timber three-high, and Frankwas far from feeling over the effects of theprevious two-days' march. Still, if hiscompanion could manage it, he wasdetermined that he could, and he toiled on,

soaked in perspiration, straining andgasping over one of the heaviest tasksconnected with clearing land, until to hisvast relief Miss Oliver appeared in thedoorway, jingling a cowbell as a signalthat dinner was ready.

They went back to work after the meal,and Frank somehow held out until themiddle of the afternoon. It seemed veryhot in the clearing and the scorchingsunrays beat down upon the back of hisneck and shoulders. One of his horriblyblistered hands commenced to bleed, hewas almost afraid to straighten his back,and his arms were sore all over. At last asthey were heaving up a heavy log it stuckjust on the edge of the tier and Frank, whofelt his breath failing him and his heart

beating as though it would burst, couldhear the oxen scuffling furiously on theother side of the pile.

"Heave!" Harry shouted. "Another inchwill land her!"

"I can't!" Frank panted, with his handsslipping upon the lever.

"Then look out!" warned Harry. "Let go ofthe thing and jump!"

Frank did not remember whether he let goor whether the handspike was torn fromhis grasp, but he jumped backward as faras he could and staggered a few pacesfarther when he saw the big log rollingdown after him. Then he fell headlong,there was a crash and a great trampling of

hoofs, and he wondered whether the logwould crush the life out of him. When hescrambled to his feet, however, it hadstopped not far away; and in a fewmoments Harry appeared from behind thepile.

"It pulled the oxen backward right up tothe logs," he explained. Then he lookedsharply at Frank. "We haven't done badlyfor one day, and Aunt Sophy wants me tohaul in some stovewood. You sit there andrest yourself awhile."

He went away with the oxen, and Frankwas thankful to do as he was told, for hisheart was heavy and he was utterly wornout. His hands were torn and blistered andthe logs that he had partly lifted with hisbody had bruised his breast and ribs. If

this was ranching, it was horrible work,and he felt that he would break downaltogether if he attempted much more of it.It was nothing like his dream of ridingthrough the bush on spirited horses afterhalf-wild cattle. Then the troublesomequestion as to what he should do if hegave it up had to be faced. He had foundthat he had no aptitude for business, andhe had a suspicion that work would bequite as hard in a logging camp or in asawmill. It was clear that he could not gohome, even if he had the money for hisfare, which was not the case, and he feltvery forlorn and miserable.

In the meanwhile the twigs he lay uponwere pleasantly soft, and it was cool andpeaceful in the lengthening shadow of the

firs. There was a curious rhythmicdrumming sound which he found mostsoothing and which he afterward learnedwas made by a blue grouse not far away.The pungent smell of withering fir andcedar sprays in the slashing dulled hissenses, until at last his troubles seemed tomelt away and he fancied that he was backin Boston where nobody had everrequired him to heave ponderous logsupon one another.

It was a couple of hours later when Mr.Oliver, walking back that way with Harry,stopped and looked at the pile.

"You have put all those up since thismorning?" he asked.

Harry said that they had done so, and Mr.

Oliver glanced down with a little smile atFrank, who lay fast asleep.

"It's rather more than I expected. The ladmust have done his share, but it might havebeen better if you had started him atsomething easier."

"He stood it all right until a while ago,and I think he'd have seen me through if ithadn't been for the walk yesterday. Shallwe crosscut some of those branches to-morrow instead?"

"No," replied Mr. Oliver after a moment'sreflection. "It might be wiser to let himsee the worst of it. If he stands a week'slogging there's no doubt that he'll do." Hepaused a moment and looked down atFrank again. "I don't think he'll back down

on it. He's very much like his father, as Iremember him a good many years ago."

Then he laid his hand on Frank's shoulder.

"Get up, boy. Supper's ready."

CHAPTER IVTARGET PRACTICE

The two boys spent most of the followingweek rolling logs and they were busyamong them one hot afternoon when Mr.Oliver walked out of the bush nearby. Asthey did not immediately see him, hestopped and stood watching them in theshadow for a few minutes. Frank wasfeeling more cheerful by this time, thoughhis hands were still very sore and, as agood many of the logs were burned on theoutside, he was more or less blackened allover. He was getting used to the work, and

Jake, who had arrived with the sloop inthe meanwhile, relieved him and hiscompanion of the heaviest part of it.Turning around presently at a sound, Franksaw Mr. Oliver smiling at him.

"If I were as grimy as you I think I'd go infor a swim," he said. "It's hot enough, andthere's a nice beach not far away. I daresay Harry will go along with you whileJake and I put up these logs."

Harry lost no time in throwing down hishandspike, and they set out together downa narrow trail through the woods, whichled them out by and by upon a head abovethe cove in which the sloop lay moored.Standing on the edge of the crag, Franklooked down upon the clear, green waterwhich lapped smooth as oil upon a belt of

milk-white shingle and broke into littlewisps of foam beneath the gray rocks atthe mouth of the cove. Beyond this the seaflashed silver in the sunlight like a greatmirror, except where a faint, fitful breezetraced dark blue streaks across it. Dimsmudges of islands and headlands brokethe gleaming surface here and there, andhigh above it all was a cold white gleamof eternal snow.

In a few minutes they had scrambled downa winding path, and Frank, stripping offhis clothes, waded into the water abreastof the sloop which lay swinging gentlyabout a dozen yards from the beach.

"Can you swim off to her?" shouted Harry.

Frank said that he thought he could, and

set about it with a jerky breast stroke, forhe was not very proficient in the art. Thewater was decidedly cold and he wasglad when he reached the sloop. Clutchingher rail where it was lowest amidships heendeavored to pull himself out. To hisdisgust he found that his feet would shootforward under the bottom of her, with theresult that he sank back to the neck aftereach effort. When he had made two orthree attempts he heard a shout:

"Hold on! You'll never do it that way."

Harry shot toward him, his limbs gleamingcuriously white through the shining greenwater, though his face and neck showed acoffee-brown, as did his lower arms,which he swung out above his head,rolling from side to side at every stroke.

He grasped Frank's shoulder and pushedhim toward the stern of the sloop.

"Now," he said when he clutched it, "thereare just two ways of getting out of thewater into a boat. If she has a flat sternyou make for there and get your hands onthe top of it spread a little apart. Then youheave yourself up by a handspring—though that isn't very easy."

Frank smiled at these instructions, but saidnothing. It was easy for him, because hehad learned the trick in a gymnasium.Suddenly jerking down his elbows, whichever since he had grasped the stern wereas high as his head, he shot his body upuntil his hands were down at his hips.Then, as his waist was level with thesloop's transom, he quietly crawled on

board. Harry, however, had to make twoor three attempts before he succeeded, andthen he looked at his companion withundisguised astonishment.

"I've never done it right away yet," he saidadmiringly. "Say, do you know how todive?"

"No," replied Frank; "that is, I've scarcelytried."

Harry led him forward where the boat'ssheer was higher and he could stand acouple of feet or so above the water.

"You only get half the fun out of swimmingunless you can dive," he said. "Let's seewhat kind of a show you make."

Frank stiffened himself and jumped. At

least, that was what he meant to do, but asit happened, he merely threw himself flatupon the water, and the result was ratherdisconcerting. He felt as though all thebreath had been knocked out of him, and inaddition to this all the front of his bodywas smarting. He was about to swimtoward the stern again when Harrystopped him.

"Hold on!" he called. "You may as welllearn the other way of getting out, and ifshe's a sailing craft with a bowsprit it'smuch the easiest one. Swim forward to thebow."

Frank did so and saw that a wire ran fromthe end of the bowsprit, dipping a littlebelow the water where it was attached tothe boat. He had no difficulty in getting his

foot upon it, and after that it was a simplematter to crawl on board. His chest andlimbs were still smarting and were veryred when he joined Harry. The latterregarded him with a look of amusement.

"You'll get hurt every time, if you divelike that," he said. "Look here," and hestood up on the boat's deck. "You want toget your weight on the fore part of yourfeet all ready to shove off before you go.Then you must shoot as far forward as youcan—falling on it won't do—and hollowyour back and stiffen yourself once you'reunder. That is, when you want to skimalong just below the surface. Watch me."

Leaning forward a little he sprang outfrom the boat, a lithe, tense figure, withhands flung straight forward over his

head. They struck the water first, and hewent in with an impetus which swept himalong scarcely a foot beneath the top. Thenhis speed slowly slackened and he hadstopped altogether about a length of theboat away when he raised his head andswam back to her.

"You don't want to try that in less than fourfeet until you're sure you can do it right,"he said when he had climbed on board."The other kind of diving's different."Then, taking up a galvanized pin, he threwit in. "See whether you can fetch it.There's about eight or nine feet of waterhere. You can open your eyes as soon asyour head's in, and you won't have anytrouble in coming up again. Jump, andthrow your legs straight up as you go."

Frank managed this time not to drop in aheap as he had done before. He alsoopened his eyes under water for the firsttime and found it perfectly easy to see. Itwas like looking through green glass. Hecould make out the pin lying a long waydown beneath him. It was, however,impossible to reach it. The water seemeddetermined on forcing him back to the top,and when he abandoned the struggle to getdown he seemed to reach the surface witha bound.

"How far did I go?" he gasped.

"About six feet. It's quite as far as Iexpected."

Harry plunged, and Frank, who hadclimbed out in the meanwhile, saw him

striking upward with his feet until heturned and came up with a rush, holdingthe pin in one hand. Flinging it on boardhe headed for the beach and was standingon the shingle rubbing himself with hishands when Frank joined him.

"I guess you had two towels when youwent swimming back East?" he laughed.

Frank looked up inquiringly,acknowledging that he usually had takenone.

"Well," said Harry, "we have them at thehomestead, but there are ranches in thiscountry where you wouldn't get even one."

"No towels!" exclaimed Frank in someastonishment. "What do they use instead?"

"Some of them cut a very little bit off of acotton flour bag. Those bags are valuablebecause they keep them to mend theirshirts with. I've a notion that the otherfellows sit in the sun."

Frank laughed and scrambled into hisclothes after rubbing himself with hishands. He was commencing to realize thatwhether Harry was joking with him or notit was unavoidable that they should havedifferent ways in different parts of so biga country. Indeed, now that he was somefour thousand miles from Boston, he feltthat instead of its being curious that thepeople were slightly different it waswonderful that they were so much thesame. If one measured four thousand milesacross Europe and Asia one would get

Frenchmen at the one end and wildCossacks or nomad Tartars at the other,with perhaps a score of wholly differentnations, speaking different languages,between.

They had an excellent appetite for supperwhen they went back to the ranch, andafter the meal was over, Mr. Oliver tookdown a rifle from the wall.

"You can bring yours along, Harry," hesaid, and then turned to Frank. "In ageneral way, a rancher doesn't get muchtime for hunting, and he seldom goes outfor the fun of the thing, but an odd deer orgrouse comes in handy now and then.Anyway, before you can hunt at all youmust learn to shoot and you may as wellbegin."

"Dad's a pot-hunter," chuckled Harry. "Atleast, that's what the two smart sports wehad round here last fall said he was."

A gleam of amusement crept into his aunt'seyes, but Mr. Oliver's face contracted intoa slight frown.

"Harry knows my views, but you hadbetter hear them, too," he said to Frank."I'm certainly what those fellows called apot-hunter, though they very foolishlyseemed to think that one ought to beashamed of it. Most of the ranchers in thisdistrict take down the rifle only when theywant something to eat, and that's the bestexcuse there is for shooting. Is it adesirable thing to destroy a dozenharmless beasts for the mere pleasure ofkilling, and leave them in the bush for the

wolves and eagles?"

"Don't the game laws prevent that, sir?"Frank asked.

"They limit a man to so many head of thisand that, and in a general way he brings nomore out with him, but it doesn't by anymeans follow that he hasn't killed a bearor a deer that he doesn't mention in somelonely ravine. The sport who hasn't aconscience is as big a pest in a gamecountry as the horn and hide hunter used tobe, and we have to thank him forpractically exterminating several of thefinest beasts in North America."

"Wouldn't the clearing of virgin countryand the way the farms and ranches springup account for it?"

"Only to some extent. It's my opinion thatthere are more deer and bears about thesmaller ranches than you could findanywhere else. All this is no reason whyyou shouldn't learn to shoot; that is, to hityour game just where you want to and killit there and then."

He walked out with his rifle and the boysfollowed him across the clearing. HereHarry fixed a piece of white paper abouttwo feet square with a black dab in themiddle of it on the trunk of a big fir, afterwhich he came back to where the otherswere standing.

"How far do you make it?" his fatherasked.

"About a hundred yards."

Mr. Oliver now turned to Frank.

"As I think you told me you couldn't shoot,I'll give you a short lecture on theprinciples of the thing. When they're afterbirds most men use a scatter gun. It willspread an ounce of shot—several hundredpellets—over a six-foot circle at adistance of about forty yards; but the rifleis the great weapon of western America.Take this one and open the breach—nowlook up the barrel."

"I can see little grooves twisting round itlike a screw," said Frank.

"That's the rifling. It serves two purposes.The bullet—you use only one—has toscrew round and round to get out, and thatgives the explosion time to act upon it. It

increases the muzzle velocity. Then itgives the bullet a rotary motion, andanything spinning on its axis travels verymuch straighter than it would dootherwise. It's the twisting motion thatkeeps a top from falling over."

Frank could readily understand this, andhe remembered what he had read about thegyroscope.

"Now," continued Mr. Oliver, "we have toconsider the pull of the earth upon thebullet, which would bring it down, and tocounteract this you have to direct it ratherupward. The slight curve it makes beforeit reaches its mark is called the trajectory,and it naturally varies with the distance.You arrange it by the sights. There are twoof them, one on the muzzle and one near

the breach. The last one slides up anddown like this. The farther off the mark isthe higher it must go. As you have to getthem both in line, it's evident that pushingthe back one up will raise the muzzle. Youcan understand that?"

Frank said that he could, and Mr. Oliverpushed the rearsight down and snapped alever.

"It's cocked, though it hasn't a shell in it.At a hundred yards or less the sight goesdown about the limit." He handed Frankthe rifle. "Stand straight, left foot a little tothe left and forward—that will do. Nowbring the rifle to your shoulder—left handunder the barrel near the rearsight, elbowwell down, right hand round the small ofthe butt, thumb on the top. Try to hold it

steady."

Frank found it difficult. The rifle washeavy and the muzzle seemed to want todrop, but Mr. Oliver stopped him when helet his left elbow fall in toward his side.

"Bring it down and wait a moment beforeyou throw it up again," he advised.

Frank did so once or twice, and at lengthhis instructor seemed satisfied.

"Now we'll aim," he said. "Drop your leftcheek on the stock—you'd better shut yourleft eye. Try to see the target through thehollow of the rearsight, with the front oneright in the middle of it."

It seemed singularly difficult. The squareof paper now looked exceedingly small

and the sights would wobble across it.After several attempts, however, Frankgot them comparatively steady.

"Put your forefinger on the trigger," Mr.Oliver directed. "Don't pull, but squeeze itslowly and steadily, holding your breathin the meanwhile."

This was worst of all, for Frank found thathe pulled the sight off the target when hetightened his forefinger. After he had madean attempt or two, Mr. Oliver told him toput the rifle down.

"See what you can do, Harry," he said.

"Standing?"

"Yes," said Mr. Oliver, turning to Frankagain. "Standing's hardest, kneeling easier,

and lying down easiest of all, but whenyou're hunting in thick bush you generallyhave to stand."

Harry slipped a shell into his rifle, andpitched it to his shoulder. It wobbled for amoment and then grew still. After thatthere was a spitting of red sparks from themuzzle, which suddenly jerked, followedby a sharp detonation. A second or twolater there was a thud, and Harry laughedas he stood gazing at the mark while alittle blue smoke curled out of the muzzleand the opened breach.

"It's well up on the left top corner," hesaid.

Frank was blankly astonished. He couldcertainly see the square of paper, but it

seemed impossible that anybody could tellwhether there was a mark on it. As amatter of fact, very few people who hadnot been taught how to use their eyescould have done so.

Then Mr. Oliver took up his rifle, andFrank noticed that his whole body andlimbs seemed to fall into the best positionfor holding it steady without any visibleeffort on the man's part. The blue barreldid not seem to move at all until at lengthit jerked, and Harry grinned exultantly atFrank when a thin streak of smoke driftedpast them.

"That's the pot-hunter's way. He's abouttwo inches off the center."

Mr. Oliver gave Frank the rifle, and this

time he slipped in a shell.

"If you can't get the sights right bring itdown," he directed. "Don't dwell too longon your aim."

Frank held his breath and stiffened hismuscles, but the foresight would wobbleand the target seemed to dance up anddown in a most exasperating manner. Atlength he pressed the trigger. He felt asharp jar upon his shoulder, but to hisastonishment he heard no report. Afterwhat seemed quite a long time there was afaint thud in the forest.

"You've got something, but I guess it's thewrong tree," laughed Harry.

After that Frank tried several shots, finally

succeeding in hitting the tree a couple offeet above the mark. Mr. Oliver, who hadtaken out his pipe in the meanwhile,nodded at him encouragingly.

"You only need to practice steadily," hesaid. "For the rest, anything that tendstoward a healthy life will make you shootwell. Whisky and tobacco most certainlywon't."

Harry's eyes twinkled as he glanced at hisfather's pipe.

"One of them hasn't much effect on him. Idon't know whether I told you about thebag the two sports who were round herelast fall nearly made. I got the tale fromWebster on the next ranch."

Frank said that he would like to hear it,and Harry laughed.

"Well," he began, "Webster was sitting ona log in the bush just outside his slashing,looking around kind of sorrowful at thetrees. It seemed to him they looked so bigand nice it would be a pity to spoil them.When I've been chopping until my handsare sore I sometimes feel like that."

"It doesn't lead to riches," interrupted hisfather dryly.

"By and by," Harry continued, "Websterheard a smashing in the underbrush. It keptcoming nearer, but it wasn't in the leastlike the sound a bear makes or a jumpingdeer. You don't know they're aroundunless they're badly scared. Anyway,

Webster sat still wondering what it couldbe, until he saw a man crawling on theground. He was coming along verycautiously, but you couldn't have heardhim more than half a mile away. By and byhe disappeared behind a big tree, and asthere hadn't been a deer about for a weekWebster wondered if the man was mad,until there was a blaze of repeater firing inthe bush. Then Fremont, his logging ox,came out of it like a locomotive andheaded for the range so fast that Webstercouldn't see how he went. He grabbed hislogging handspike, and found a sportabusing another for missing in the bush.

"'What in the name of wonder are youafter?' he asked.

"'We've been trailing a deer two hours,'

one of them declared. 'A mighty big deer.Must have been an elk.'

"'An elk, sure. I saw it,' added the other.

"'There isn't a blamed elk in the country,'said Webster.

"'You'll see,' persisted the other. 'I tell youI pumped the cylinder full into him.'

"'Quite sure of that?' Webster asked.

"The other man said that he was, andWebster waved his handspike.

"'Then it's going to cost you sixty dollars,and I'll take a deposit now,' he said. 'It'smy ox Fremont you've been after.'"

"Did they give it to him?" Frank broke in.

"Five dollars," Harry answered. "Websterlooked big and savage, and theycompromised on that."

"But had they hit the ox?"

Harry chuckled. "Give a man who isn't ahunter a repeater and he'll never hitanything—unless it's what he isn't shootingat."

"Anyway, it's better to stick to the singleshot at first," Mr. Oliver remarked. "Thenyou take time and care, and it's morelikely that when you shoot you kill. Nohumane person has any use for the manwho leaves badly wounded beastswandering about the woods."

He rose, and shook out his pipe.

"We'll be getting back," he added."There's only one way of making it easy torise at sun-up."

They walked toward the house together,and it seemed to Frank that there was agood deal to be said for this rancher'sviews. He did not tell tall stories andboast of what he had shot, but Frank hadseen enough to realize that it was mostunlikely that he left any sorely woundedanimal to die in misery. It was not oftenthat Mr. Oliver molested the beautifulwild creatures of the woods, but when hefixed the sights on one of them he killed itclean.

CHAPTER VTHE MYSTERIOUS

SCHOONER

Three or four weeks slipped byuneventfully, and Frank was commencingto like the simple, laborious life at theranch. He and Harry were standingtogether one evening on the shingle downin the cove. It was close upon high waterand a long swell worked in, breakingnoisily upon the pebbles, while they couldsee the blue undulations burst into snowyfroth about the dark rocks at the entrance.The sun had just dipped; it was

wonderfully fresh and cool, and a sweetresinous smell drifted out of the forestbehind them.

Harry glanced at a canoe which lay closeby. It was about fourteen feet long and justwide enough to sit in, and had beenhollowed out of a cedar log by a SiwashIndian. The bow, which swept sharplyupward, had been rudely cut into thelikeness of a bird's head. The craft waskept there so that anybody who wished toreach the sloop could go off in her.

"I don't think it's quite high water yet, andthe breeze is dropping," Harry was saying."There's just enough to take us a mile ortwo down the beach over the tide with thespritsail set. Then we could lower themast and paddle home."

"Wouldn't she sail back?" Ray asked.

"No," was the answer, "only with a fairwind. You can't beat a thing like that towindward. There's not enough of her inthe water."

Frank said that he would like to go, andafter running the canoe down they liftedthe short mast into place and set the littlesail. It filled when a few strokes of thepaddle had driven them out of the cove,and they slid away, rising and fallingsmoothly, with the swell running afterthem. Harry took hold of the rope that heldthe foot of the sail fast to a peg.

"You want to keep the sheet handy in avery small craft," he instructed. "Then if ahard puff of wind strikes her you can slack

it up, or let it go altogether, when the sailwill blow out loose. There's more weightin this breeze than I expected."

It seemed to Frank from the gurgle at thebows and the way the foam slipped bythem that they were sailing very fast, butfor a while he watched the rocky headsthat dipped to the water open out one afteranother and then close in again behindthem. The woods that crept between themdown to the strips of shingle were rapidlygrowing shadowy, and the ridges of waterthat followed them seemed to be gettingdarker, though here and there one of themwas flecked with bright wisps of froth. Atlength Harry let the sheet go and broughtthe canoe around.

"We'll have the mast down and get back,"

he said.

They had no trouble in rolling up the sailand laying the mast in the bottom of thecraft, but when they dipped the paddles,Harry kneeling in the stern and Franktoward the bow, the latter realized thattheir next task would not be quite so easy.A chilly wind which seemed considerablystronger than before they turned struck hisface, the bows splashed noisily, throwingup little spurts of spray, and now and thenthe narrow craft lurched rather wildlyover the top of a swell. He worked hardfor about twenty minutes, and thenglancing astern was a little astonished tosee that a rock which had been oppositethem was now a remarkably smalldistance behind. Harry, who had evidently

followed his glance, scowleddisapprovingly.

"We'll have to paddle, that's a cold fact,"he declared. "The tide seems to haveturned quite a while before it ought tohave, and the breeze is getting up again.We might find slacker water rightinshore."

They edged close in to the rocks, the sightof which did not add to Frank's comfort,though the boat crept on a little faster. Theswell broke in long white swirls abouttheir feet, and it was evident that anyattempt to land there was out of thequestion. Besides, even if they managed toreach the bush, there was no trail to theranch, and he had no desire to strugglethrough the tangle of fallen branches and

dense thickets in the darkness. His kneesand hands were getting sore, but he toiledon patiently with the single-ended paddle,while the canoe lurched more viciouslyand little showers of spray flew in overher bow. It was becoming exceedinglyhard work to drive the craft into the risinghead sea. The foam-girt rocks were,however, slowly crawling by, and atlength, after laboring, panting andbreathless, around a somewhat largerhead, Harry suddenly stopped paddling.

"Hold on!" he exclaimed. "Just keep herfrom swinging, and look yonder!"

Frank, glad of a brief rest, gazed astern. Itwas neither light nor dark, for a pale moonhung low in the sky, casting a faint silverytrack upon the water, which was now

flecked with white froth a little off shore.Across the sweep of radiance there moveda tall black spire of slanting canvas, withthe foam leaping up about the shadowystrip of hull beneath.

"The schooner!" said Harry significantly."She's beating up over the tide and she'llprobably stand close in, but I don't thinkthey could see us against the land."

He spoke as if he did not wish to be seen,and for no very clear reason Frank feltglad that they lay in the shadow of a bigblack head. The schooner was coming onvery fast, rising, it seemed to him, bodily,until he could make out the curl of piled-up water that flowed away beneath herdepressed side. The mass of strainingsailcloth hid most of her slanted deck, and

he could see nobody on board her, but itseemed curious that she carried no lights.Then it occurred to him that she washeading straight for them, and he wasabout to dip his paddle when Harrystopped him.

"Keep still!" he commanded. "They'llhave to come round before they reach us."

Frank could now hear the roar of waterabout the bow of the vessel, and in aminute or two she swayed suddenlyupright and there was a great thrashing ofcanvas as, shooting forward, she cameround. She was very near them and as herboom-foresail and mainsail swung across,leaving clear the side of the deck they hadshrouded, he saw two or three shadowyfigures busy forward. They became more

distinct as she drove back into themoonlight, which fell upon the form of herhelmsman. Frank could see him clearly,and there was, he fancied, somethingpeculiar about the man.

The splashing top of a sea slopped into thecanoe as they got way on her, and theytaxed their strength to the utmost during thenext hour. The craft bucked and jumped asthey laboriously drove her over theconfused swell, which was rapidly gettinghigher, and there was already a good dealof water washing about inside her. Onceor twice Frank held his breath as athreatening mass of water heaved upahead, but in each case she lurched acrossit safely, and presently they foundsmoother water under another crag. He

gave a sigh of relief when at length theyreached the cove and beached her uponthe shingle. They turned her over to emptybefore they ran her up, and then Harry satdown upon a boulder. Frank already haddiscovered that he seldom talked ofanything they had done as though it werean exploit.

"I'm quite puzzled about that schooner," hesaid presently.

"Why?"

Harry paused and thought a moment."Well, it's a sure thing she's the vessel thatcrept past us the morning we were lyingbeneath the point, and though she's beenseen three or four times now there's nonotice in the papers of any arrival that

seems to fit her. She has the look of beingbuilt for the Canadian sealing trade, andmost of the craft in that business aremighty smart vessels."

"Doesn't a ship have to carry paperssaying where she's from and where she'sgoing?"

"Oh, yes," assented Harry. "Still, shemight clear from somewhere in Canada,say for the halibut fishing—I've heardthey're trying to start it there—orsomething that would keep her out a monthor so. Then, as there is no end of quietinlets in British Columbia and a goodmany here, she could run up and downfrom one to another and go back with afew fish, and there'd be nothing to showwhat she had been doing in the

meanwhile."

"You think it's something illegal?"

"If it is anything honest I don't see why shewas beating up without her lights in thestrength of the tide, when she'd haveslacker water over toward the other side,only there'd be a chance of her being seenfrom the Seattle boat if she ran acrossyonder. Now it's a general idea that there'sa good deal of dope—that's opium—smuggled into this country, and now andthen Chinamen, too. Our people won'thave any more of them, but though theyhave no trouble in getting into Canada,they seem to like the States better. I guesswages are higher."

"Have you talked to your father about it?"

"I told him what we'd seen the other timeand he looked kind of amused, or as if hedidn't want to be bothered about the thing;though that may not have been it, either.Unless he tells you right out, you cannever figure on what he's thinking.Anyway, I'll say nothing more to himunless there's some particular reason."

Harry was afterward sorry that he hadarrived at this decision, and, for thatmatter, so was his father, but it was thenext morning before this came about. Inthe meanwhile the boys went back to theranch, and soon afterward retired to restin the room they now shared. Frank wentto sleep at once, and it was some timelater when, awaking suddenly, he fanciedthat Harry had left his bed, which was

fixed against the opposite wall. A faintlight from outside crept into the room, andFrank made out a black figure standing bythe open window. Slipping softly to thefloor he moved toward it and Harry raisedhis hand warningly when he joined him.

"What are you doing here?" Frankinquired.

"Well," answered Harry, "since you askme, I don't quite know, but I fancied Iheard somebody about the ranch. Keepstill and listen."

He spoke in a low and rather strainedvoice, and Frank, who was uneasilyimpressed by it, leaned out of the window.There was a moon somewhere in the sky,but it was obscured by clouds, and only a

dim, uncertain light filtered down. Itshowed the great black firs which rose, arampart of impenetrable darkness, beyondthe rather less shadowy clearing, acrosspart of which the fruit trees stretched.Then ran back, in regular rows, littleclumps of deeper obscurity whichpresently grew blurred and faded into oneanother. The wind had apparently droppedagain, for it was impressively still.

"I can't hear anything," whispered Frank.

"I'm not sure that I did," rejoined Harry."It may be that seeing that schooner put thething into my head, but we'll wait a littlenow that we're up."

For a couple of minutes they waited insilence. Then Harry suddenly gripped his

companion's arm.

"Look!" he whispered. "Across theclearing—yonder!"

Frank fancied that he could make out ashadowy object in the open space betweenthe fruit trees and the forest. It was verydim and indistinct, and he realized that hewould not have noticed it only that itmoved. Shortly afterward it disappearedand a faint rattle like that made by twopieces of wood jarring together came outof the deep gloom beneath the firs.

"The fence," suggested Harry. "It soundedlike the top rails going down."

The fence was made of split railsinterlocked together in the usual manner

without the use of nails, and it seemed toFrank very probable that anybodyclimbing over it in the darkness would beapt to knock one or two of them down.The question was who would be likely toclimb over it, since there was no oneliving within some miles of the ranch.Then he caught another sound whichseemed farther off. It suggested the crackleof rotten branches or torn-downundergrowth, but it ceased almostimmediately.

"Slip on your things," whispered Harry."I'm going down."

In a few moments they crept softly downthe stairway barefooted, and Harryopened the outer door very cautiously. Hepicked up an ax outside, and they moved

silently around the house, stopping nowand then to listen. There was only a deepstillness. Nothing seemed to move; thoughFrank wished that he had at least a goodthick stick in his hand. He had anuncomfortable feeling that they mightcome upon a man hiding in some strip ofdeeper gloom as they slowly crept alongthe wall. When at length they had satisfiedthemselves that there was nobody about,Harry sat down.

"I can't figure out this thing," he mused. "Itseems to me that whoever those strangerswere they haven't been near the house, andit's a quiet country, anyway." He glanceddown at his bare feet. "I'd go along andlook around the barn and stables only thatI'd certainly stub my toes, and it wouldn't

be any use. Nobody steals horses aroundhere. They couldn't get rid of them if theydid."

The outbuildings stood at some littledistance from the house, and Frank, whoremembered that they had strewn the trailto them with broken twigs in draggingsome branches from the slashing, agreedwith his companion that it would not bewise to traverse it in the darkness withunprotected feet.

"Couldn't you slip into the kitchen and getour boots?" he suggested.

"Not without waking dad," answeredHarry. "He's in the next room, and hesleeps lightly. I'm not anxious to bring himout if no harm's been done."

"He'd get angry?"

"No, he'd only smile; and somehow thatmakes you feel quite cheap and small.Besides"—and he hesitated—"there wasanother time, when I roused them fornothing; and I don't want to do it again.You wouldn't either, if you had stood asmuch about it from Jake as I've had to eversince."

They decided to say nothing about thematter unless some reason for doing soappeared in the morning, and creepingback through the house as silently aspossible they went to bed. They awoke alittle later than usual, and going downfound Mr. Oliver standing at one side ofthe kitchen table rather grave of face, withJake, who also looked thoughtful, opposite

him. A strip of paper with some writingon it lay between them. Mr. Oliver lookedaround as the boys came in.

"Did either of you hear anythingsuspicious last night?" he asked.

"Yes," said Harry hesitatingly. "In fact,we came down."

He briefly related why they had done so,and Jake broke in:

"Then why in the name of wonder didn'tyou call somebody?"

"It's a reasonable question," said Mr.Oliver.

Harry explained with some diffidence thatthey were afraid of being laughed at, and

Frank felt a little uncomfortable under therancher's steady gaze.

"Well," said the latter dryly, "I supposeyour idea was natural, and we'll let it goat that. It's perhaps scarcely worth whileto point out that most people get laughed atnow and then, and there's no reason forbelieving that it hurts them. I wonder ifyou will be surprised to hear that my teamhas gone?"

They were certainly somewhat startled.

"I found this stuck up on the stable door,"said Jake, pushing the strip of paperacross toward them.

The boys read the straggling writing: "Ifyou want your team back keep your

mouth shut."

For a moment they looked at each other insilence, and then Mr. Oliver turned tothem.

"It's all we know in the meanwhile. Haveyou anything more to tell us?"

Harry diffidently mentioned the schooner,and his father drew down his brows.

"Whether her appearance has anyconnection with the matter is more than Ican say, but I'll sail up to the settlementthis morning. You and Frank can go onwith the drain cutting while I am away."

Just then Miss Oliver came in to getbreakfast ready, and when the meal wasfinished the two boys made for the

clearing where they were cutting a trench.When they reached their destination Harrysat down and pushed back his hat.

"This thing isn't very clear to me, but I'mbeginning to get the drift of it," heannounced. "It's quite likely that dadknows a good deal more about it than I do,but until he has it all worked out he won'ttell. First of all, we'll allow that they'resmugglers on that schooner. Theyborrowed two of our horses and that fixesit."

"You couldn't smuggle a great deal on twohorses," Frank pointed out.

"Sure," admitted Harry. "Still, they mighthave picked up another team somewhereelse, and you want to remember that it

only pays to smuggle things that arevaluable and can be easily moved. Nowone packhorse load of dope would beworth a good many dollars, and you can'tmove anything much easier than a man.He's got feet."

This was incontestable, but Frankconsidered the matter.

"If you turned a number of Chinamen loosein the bush wouldn't they be recognized asstrangers at any settlement they reachedand have to give an account of themselvesto somebody?"

"The trouble is that, although I believethey have to carry papers of some kind,it's mighty hard to tell one Chinaman fromanother and they all work into each other's

hands."

"Your idea is that the smugglers haveconfederates?"

"They have them, sure," said Harry."There's some diking being done on a saltmarsh not far away, and the last time I wasthere it struck me there were some hard-looking white toughs on the workings.Then there's a small Chinese colonybehind the settlement, and it's thick bushwith only a few ranches for some leaguesbeyond. Just the kind of country forrunning dope through."

"Are the ranchers likely to stand in?"

"No, not in a general way, but it's possiblethat a man here and there living by himself

in the bush would say nothing if theyborrowed a horse or two. It's not nice tohave a gang of toughs up against you."

"Your father doesn't seem inclined to lookat it that way."

Harry laughed. "I'll allow that there's agood deal of sense in dad. It would beclear to him that he couldn't well givethem away afterward if he did nothing thistime. They'd certainly have got him; anddad's not the man to let a gang of doperunners order him round." He paused amoment, and added significantly: "If theytry any bluffing in this case there'll betrouble."

Frank asked no further questions and theyset about the trenching.

CHAPTER VIAT THE HELM

Mr. Oliver did not come back untilnightfall. He said nothing about his visit tothe settlement and several days passedbefore the boys heard anything further ofthe matter. In the meanwhile they went onwith the drain they were cutting across aswampy strip of clearing, and oneafternoon they stood in the bottom of thefour-foot trench. Harry was then busy witha grubhoe, cutting through the roots andbreaking up the wet soil, which hiscompanion flung out with a long-handled

shovel. It was unpleasantly hot, and theflies were troublesome. Frank's handswere too muddy to brush them away andthey crawled about his face and into hisears. He had already decided that drainingwas about the last occupation he wouldhave chosen for a scorching afternoon, hadthe choice been open to him.

He stood, stripped to shirt and trousers, inabout a foot of water, and because he hadnot learned the trick of pitching out thesoil, part of every shovelful fell back uponhim. His shirt was spattered all over, andpatches of sticky mire glued it to his skin.There was no doubt that ranching wasconsiderably less romantic than he hadsupposed it to be, and logging and ditchingstruck him as particularly uninteresting

and somewhat barbarous work, but he wasbeginning to realize that all theagricultural prosperity of his country wasfounded on toil of a very similar kind. Thewheat and the fruit trees would not growuntil man with patient labor had preparedthe soil for them, and, what was moresignificant, Mr. Oliver had made it plainthat their yield varied in direct proportionwith the work bestowed on them. Nature'salchemy, it seemed, could transmute theeffort of straining muscle into goldensheaves, glowing-tinted apples, andvelvet-skinned peaches and prunes.

It was clear to Frank that if he meant tobecome a rancher he must make up hismind to face a good many unpleasanttasks, and he swung up the mire shovelful

by shovelful, though his back and limbswere aching and he had to work in ahorribly cramped position. He was young,and though there were times when thework seemed almost too much for him, itwas consoling to feel when he laid downhis tools at night that he was growingharder and tougher with every day's toil,for his muscles were now beginning toobey instead of mastering him. He couldgo on for several hours after theycommenced to ache, without its costinghim any great effort.

By and by, however, there was aninterruption, and Frank was by no meanssorry when Mr. Oliver came up with astranger and called them out of the trench.

"This is Mr. Barclay whose business is

connected with the collection of theUnited States revenue," he said. "I believehe would like a little talk with you."

He walked away and left them with thestranger, who sat down on a log and tookout a cigar. He was a little man and ratherstout, dressed carelessly in store clothes,with a big soft hat and a white shirt whichbulged up above the opening in his half-buttoned vest. It occurred to Frank that helooked like a country doctor. From outrather bushy eyebrows shone a pair ofwhimsical, twinkling eyes. When he hadlighted his cigar he indicated the trenchwith a large, plump hand.

"Been making all that hole yourselves?"he asked.

"Yes, sir," replied Harry.

"Interesting work?"

"That depends on how you look at it," saidHarry flippantly. "Would you like to try?"

Mr. Barclay waved his hand. "It isn'tnecessary. Did something of the same kindyears ago—only, if I remember, it wasrather wetter."

"Where was that?" Harry inquired with anair of languid politeness, at which Frankfelt inclined to chuckle.

"Place called Forks Butte Creek. It was atwenty-foot trench."

Harry seemed astonished and his mannersuddenly changed.

"You were with the boys at Forks Buttewhen they swung the creek?"

"Sure," assented Mr. Barclay with a laugh."I didn't expect you'd have heard of it.You certainly weren't ranching then."

"I've heard of it lots of times," declaredHarry, turning excitedly to Frank. "It wasone of the biggest things ever done by afew men this side of the Cascades. Theold-timers talk about it yet. A mining row—there were about a dozen of themworking some alluvial claims on adisputed location. I don't know the wholeof it, but the thing turned upon the frontage,and they stood off a swarm of jumperswhile they shifted the creek."

"Something like that," said Mr. Barclay.

"In those days they interpreted the mininglaws with a certain amount of sentiment,which—and in some respects it's a pity—they don't do now." He paused and flickedthe ash from his cigar. "I understand youhave been seeing a mysterious schooner."

His tone was sufficiently ironical to putHarry on his mettle, and he furnished a fulland particular account of the vessel. Whenhe had finished Mr. Barclay glanced athim with amusement in his eyes.

"You have an idea there might besmugglers on board of her?" he suggested.

"It's more than an idea. I'm sure."

"I wonder if you could tell me why?"

It was rather difficult to answer, but Harry

made the attempt, furnishing his questionerwith half a dozen reasons which did notseem to have much effect on him.

"Well," he persisted, "you're convincedshe had opium and Chinamen on boardher?"

"Aren't you?"

Mr. Barclay looked up with a smile. "Atthe present moment I can't form anopinion. After all, it's possible."

He rose, and as he was strolling awaytoward the house Harry's face contractedinto an indignant frown.

"That man must have been cooking, orsomething of the kind, at Forks Butte," hebroke out contemptuously. "Anyway, it

was the last time he ever did anythingworth talking about. Did you ever run upagainst such a stuffed image?"

Frank was far from certain that thisdescription was altogether applicable tothe stranger, but Harry seemed so muchannoyed that he did not express hisopinion, and they got down into the trenchagain. When they went back to the ranchan hour later they heard that Mr. Oliverand Mr. Barclay had gone to a neighboringranch and intended to make a journey intothe bush if they could borrow horses.When the boys were eating breakfast thenext morning Miss Oliver turned to Harry.

"We have run out of pork, and the flour isalmost gone," she said. "I meant to askyour father to bring some when he went up

to the settlement, but I forgot it, and Jakemust bring in those steers to-day."

"We'll go," broke in Harry quickly."There's a nice sailing breeze."

His aunt looked doubtful. "You have neverbeen so far with the sloop unless Jake waswith you; and isn't there a nasty tide-ripsomewhere? Still, I don't know what Ishall do unless I get the flour."

She yielded when Harry insisted; andshortly afterward the boys paddled off tothe sloop and made the canoe fast astern.They set the big gaff mainsail and Harrysculled her out of the cove before hehoisted the jib. Then he made Frank takethe helm.

"It's a head wind until we're round thepoint yonder, but you'll have to learn tosail her sometime," he said. "The firstthing to remember is that she'll only lie upat an angle to the wind and if you make ittoo small she won't go through the water.You want to feel a slight strain on thetiller."

He hauled the sheets in until the boomhung just over the boat's quarter, andwhile Frank grasped the tiller she slid outinto open water. Bright sunshine smote thelittle tumbling green ridges that had hereand there crests of snowy foam, and shebounded over them with a spray cloudflying at her bows. She seemed to bemaking an excellent pace, but Harry shookhis head.

"No," he objected, "you're letting her falloff. That is, the angle you're sailing her atis too big. She'll go faster that way, butshe won't go so far to windward. Don'tpull so much on your tiller and she'll comeup closer."

Frank tried it, but the boat sailed moreslowly, and presently her mainsailflapped.

"Now you're too close," warned Harry."You're trying to head her right into thewind. Pull your helm up again."

Frank did so, and when the boat gatheredspeed he ventured a question.

"If you keep her too close to the wind shewon't sail, and if you let her fall off she's

not going where you want. How do youfind out the exact angle she ought tomake?"

Harry laughed. "It depends on the boat, thecut of her sails, and how smart you are atthe helm. One man would shove her towindward a point closer than anothercould and keep her sailing faster, too. It'sa thing that takes time to learn, and thereare men you couldn't teach to sail a boat atall."

Frank found that it became easier bydegrees, though his companion did notappear altogether satisfied. The sloop haddipped her lee rail just level with thewater now, and she rushed along,bounding with a lurch and splash over thesmall froth-tipped seas. He began to

understand how one arrived at the properangle by the slant at which the wind struckhis face as well as by watching thedirection of the seas which came chargingdown to meet her in regular formation.Then Harry said that as they had stretchedout far enough to clear the point theywould go about upon the other tack.

"Shove your helm down—that's to lee—not too hard!" he ordered, and as Frankobeyed him there was a sharp banging ofsail cloth and the boat, swinging around,swayed upright.

In another moment the wind was on heropposite side, and she was heading off atan angle to her previous course, whileHarry with one foot braced against the leecoaming struggled to flatten in the sheet on

the jib. The big mainboom had swung overof its own accord amidst a great clatter ofblocks. By and by when the point slidaway to lee of them Harry told Frank topull his helm up, and then he pointed to aconfused mass of gray rocks and treesrising above the glistening water severalmiles away.

"Now," he said, "she'll go there straight,and all you have to do is to keep herbowsprit on yonder head. It's a fair wind,and when you've got that you want to slackout the sheets until the sails are as faroutboard as they'll go and still keep full. Ifyour sheets are too tight, you'll know it bythe weight on the tiller."

He let a couple of ropes run out throughthe clattering blocks, and the sloop,

slanting over a little farther, seemed toleap forward. The sparkling green ridgeswhich came tumbling up on one side ofher swung her aloft with the foam boilingalong the edge of her lee deck, and thensurged away in turn and let her drop whileanother came rolling up. Instead of being amere thing of wood and canvas sheseemed to become animate, charged withvitality. The springy way she rushed alongwas strangely exhilarating. Frank becamefascinated watching her bows go up andthe snowy, straining sail sweep across thedazzling blue at every lurch, while hebecame conscious of a sense of controland mastery as he gripped the tiller. Hefelt that he could do what he wanted withthis wonderful rushing thing.

For she was certainly wonderful. Therewas no doubt of that, because among all ofman's works and inventions there is nonethat more nearly approaches the simplicityof perfection and adaptability to itspurpose than the modern sailboat. It hastaken centuries to evolve her, each builderadding a little to the work of those whowent before, and balancing in her making,often without knowing it, the great naturalforces one against another, until at lastscience justified what man did, so thatwith this frail creation one may brave theuntrammeled winds of heaven and theonslaught of the seas.

By and by the headland they had beennearing thrust them off their course, andoutside it lay a nest of islets, with a strong

stream running up between. As it ran towindward it broke up the regular, breeze-driven waves into short, foaming comberswith hollowed breasts and tumbling topswhich flung up wisps of spray. Frankglanced at this tumult with some anxiety,and it was a relief to him when hiscompanion offered to take the tiller.

"You had better let me have her," Harrysaid. "She wants handling in a jump likethat. I'd heave a reef down to reduce thesail, only that it would take us some timeto tie it in and there'll be smoother wateronce we're past the islands. As we'll haveto beat through, you can get the sheets in."

Frank found this no easy task, for he hadno idea that the sails could pull so hard,and Harry had to help him with one hand.

Then the latter's face became intent as theyplunged into the turmoil. The seas lookedbig and angry now. In fact, as usuallyhappens, they looked a good deal biggerthan they really were, but they werebreaking in a threatening manner and cameon to meet the sloop in white-toppedphalanxes. She went over some with adisconcerting plunge and swoop, but sherammed a few of the rest, driving her jiband bows in and flinging the brine all overher when she swung them up. Her deckwas sluicing, and every now and then agreen and white cascade came frothingover the coaming into the well. Frank,however, noticed that, instead of lettingthe boat meet the combers, his companionoccasionally pulled his tiller up, so that,swinging round a little, she brought the

ridge of frothing water farther on her sideas she plunged over it.

"I thought you had to face a nasty seahead-on," he said.

"Did you?" Harry responded. "Then watchthat smaller one."

A slope of water came tumbling on someyards ahead, and as the boy eased hishelm down an inch or two the bows cameup to meet the sea. They struck it full in itshollowed breast, and the next momentthere was a shock and half the deck waslost in a rush of foam.

"Like me to plug another?" laughed Harry.

Frank begged him not to do it. The resultof the experiment was rather alarming, and

Harry let her fall off a little to dodge theonslaught of the succeeding combers, untilat last they grew smaller as the streamspread itself out in open water. Then hegave Frank some further instruction.

"If you were pulling or paddling a smallcraft it would be safer to bring her head-on, because you have to remember thatshe'd be going mighty slow, but whenyou're sailing a boat that's carrying herspeed it's evident that you don't want toram her right at a comber. If you do, she'sbound to go bang into it. When you seeone that looks threatening you let her falloff slightly and she goes over slanting."He broke off for a moment with a laugh."Seems to me I'm always on the 'teach.'You come here and take the tiller while I

get some of the water out of her. You canhead for that point to starboard."

He busied himself with the bucket whileFrank steered the boat, and an hour or solater they ran into a little sheltered inletwhere they brought her head to wind andpitched the anchor over. After that theybailed out the half-swamped canoe, and,dropping into her, paddled ashore.

CHAPTER VIIA WARNING

Frank looked about him with somecuriosity when they reached thesettlement, which struck him as asingularly unattractive place. In a holechopped out of the forest that crept closeto the edge of the water stood a few smalllog houses and several roughly boardedshacks. Tall fir stumps surrounded them,and here and there provision cans and oldboots lay among the fern, in which a fewlean hogs were rooting. Farther on,however, there was an opening in the

bush, for the boy could catch the gleam ofwater between the trees, and in one placethe great columnar trunks cut against thesoft green of a meadow. The grass wasbright with sunshine, but dim shadow hungover the forest-shrouded settlement.

"A forlorn spot," said Harry. "I don'tknow why the folks first pitched here, butthey raise a little fruit, and now and then aSeattle boat comes along. It's thin gravelsoil on this strip, and that's probably thereason they haven't done any morechopping—there are salt meadows fartheralong—but if they'd any hustlers amongthem they'd have got out their axes and leta little daylight in." He waved his handcontemptuously. "They're a mean crowd,anyway, except the storekeeper, and I've

wondered how he makes a living out ofthem. Now we'll go along and get thatflour."

They moved on down the trail, which wastorn up by the passage of jumper sledges,until they reached a frame building whichFrank had not noticed at first. It stoodback a little and was larger and neaterthan any of the rest. A veranda ran alongthe front of it and in one window smallflour bags and more provision cans weredisplayed. A couple of men in blue shirtsand overalls lounged smoking on theveranda in a manner which suggested thatthey had never hurried themselves in theirlives, and they seemed to be the onlyinhabitants of the place. As the boyswalked up the stairway Harry pointed to a

notice pasted up in the window. Frankstopped and read it aloud.

"Twenty dollars will be paid to any oneidentifying the man who recently drove apair of horses off the Oliver ranch."

With a laugh Harry looked up defiantly atthe lounging men. "That's Oliver'sanswer," he said. "They told him to keephis mouth shut."

One of the men grinned. "Seems to me itwas good advice. Do you figure any oneround here is going to earn those twentydollars?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't," heanswered. "Still, my only reason forbelieving it is that the money isn't bigenough. Anyway, that notice will serve itspurpose. It makes it clear that we mean tofight."

The lounger grinned again and Harry,marching past him with his head up,entered the store. A man who was sittingbehind the counter rose when the boyscame in and raised his hand in a mannerwhich seemed to indicate that caution wasdesirable.

"You're wanting some groceries?" heasked.

"Flour," Harry answered. "A seventy-pound bag, if you've got it. Some pork, too—you know the piece we take. You mightsend them down to the beach, if there'sanybody in the place who's not afraid ofcarrying a flour bag."

The storekeeper smiled and strolledcasually toward the window. Coming

back he leaned upon the counter.

"Your aunt's mighty particular about herpork," he said, raising his voice a little."Better come along into the back store andsee what I've got."

They followed him into a smaller room,where he first of all threw several bigslabs of pork down upon a board, making,it seemed to Frank, as much noise aspossible.

"Twelve pounds in this lot," he saidloudly, then lowering his voice: "Thosefellows outside haven't gone and I don'twant them to hear. You haven't found yourhorses yet?"

Harry admitted that they had not done so,

and the man nodded gravely.

"Well," he said, "I guess they'll turn uppresently. I couldn't tell your father thatbecause there were other folks in the storewhen he handed me the notice. What Iwant to say is that he's not wise in bluffingthe boys. You had better tell him that's myopinion."

"How much do you know about the thing?"Harry asked directly.

"Very little, but I can guess a good deal.Quite enough, anyway, to convince me thatyou folks had better lie quiet, and let theboys alone."

Harry glanced scornfully toward theveranda.

"Pshaw!" he growled. "We don't want tomeddle, but it's another matter to let thoseslouches drive off our team. That's myview, though I don't know what my fathermeans to do about it. He hasn't told me."

"He never does tell folks," the storekeeperanswered with a trace of dryness. "I guesshe'll wait, and kick when he's ready, butyou tell him from me that he's up againstquite a big thing." He raised his voice:"Well, I'll send that pork and flour along."

The boys went out and met one of theloungers strolling casually across thestore, though Frank had a suspicion that hehad come in softly some time earlier. Asthey were walking down to the beachHarry glanced up the strip of shelteredwater.

"There's a Chinese camp a little way upthe creek," he said. "Nothing much to seethere, but we may as well take a look atit."

They paddled across a strip of shadowwhere the reflections of spreading cedarand towering fir floated inverted in thestill, green water until the ripple from thebows broke across and banished them.After that they slid out into the sunlightwhere a narrow belt of cultivated land ranback on either hand. On one side it waspartly hidden by a bank of soil, at the endof which three or four men were leisurelyworking. They merely looked down as thecanoe slid past.

"Hard cases!" said Harry presently. "If Iwas sheriff I'd clean this hole right out.

There are decent folks here, but thecurious thing is that when you let two orthree toughs into a place they seem to geton top."

Frank made no comment, and soon theywere once more paddling into the shadowof the forest. The creek was growingsmaller, and at length they ran the canoeashore and struck into a narrow trailthrough the bush.

It was now getting on into the afternoonand Frank felt sorry that they had not eatenthe lunch Miss Oliver had prepared forthem before they left the sloop. It was veryhot, and very still, except when now andthen the drumming of a blue grouse camesharply out of the shadows. By and by,however, the wood became a little

thinner, and Harry pointed toward anopening between the trees.

"That's the place," he said. "Not much tolook at, but it's good land. You can see themaples yonder—that's always a favorablesign—and somebody with money haslately bought quite a piece of it to start afruit ranch on. The Chows have taken thecontract for clearing it, and if any dopehas been landed in the neighborhoodthey're probably mixed up with the thing."

Frank glanced toward the opening, andsitting, as he was, in dim shadow, theopen space he looked out upon seemedflooded with dazzling brightness. In thebackground, and some distance away,little, blue-clad figures were toiling withaxes that flashed as they swung amidst a

confusion of branches and fallen logs, thestaccato chunk of the blades rippingthrough the heavy stillness. Nothing else,however, seemed to move, and the air wasfilled with a languorous, resinous smell.Rows of stumps stretched out from thespot on which the Chinamen wereworking, breaking off before a cluster ofbark and split-board shacks that stoodbeneath the edge of the forest. A mandressed in loose, blue garments wasseated motionless outside one of theshacks, before two logs, from betweenwhich a little smoke curled straight up intothe air. Presently the man stood up, andjust then Harry seized Frank's shoulder.

"Look round a little—to the left," hewhispered.

Frank did so and was astonished to seeanother man slip quietly out of the forestand approach the shack. His face was notdiscernible, but there was somethingpeculiar in the way he walked, and hisdress made it evident that he was a whiteman.

"Have you seen him before?" Harry askedsoftly.

"I can't locate him, but I've an idea thathe's not quite a stranger," said Frank.

"Well," said Harry, "I'm open to make aguess at him. Just as the schooner wentabout that night I had a look at herhelmsman. He had his back to me, but itwas moonlight, and I could see that oneshoulder hunched up in a kind of curious

manner."

Frank looked again and it seemed to himthat there was something unusual in theway the man held his shoulder. It wassomewhat higher than the other, though ithardly amounted to a deformity.

"Slip in behind that tree," whisperedHarry, pointing toward the bush. "We'llcreep up through the shadow if he goesinto the shack."

They spent some minutes moving forwardin and out among the trees, and in themeanwhile Frank saw the stranger enterthe shack and the Chinaman follow him.Then he and Harry walked out of the bushscarcely a score of yards from the rudebuilding, and headed straight for it. As

they approached, the Chinaman becamevisible in the doorway, where he stoodwaiting for them. He appeared to be anold man, for his face was lined andseamed, but it was absolutelyexpressionless, an impassive yellowmask, and Frank felt baffled and repelledby it. As soon as it was evident that theboys intended to enter his dwelling, hemoved aside, and when they stood in thelittle, shadowy room Frank wasastonished to see that there was nobodyelse in it. This seemed incomprehensible,for there was only one door in the place.In the meanwhile the Chinaman waslooking at them quietly.

"It's quite hot," observed Harry.

"Velly hot," assented the other, who did

not seem in any way disturbed by the factthat they had so unceremoniously marchedin.

Harry appeared embarrassed after this, asthough he did not know what to say next,until he was evidently seized by aninspiration.

"Got any chow, John?" he asked.

"Velly good chow," answered theChinaman. "Lice, blue glouse, smokeefishee."

"Blue grouse!" said Harry disgustedlyaside to Frank. "It's the nesting season, butI guess that wouldn't count for much withthem." He turned to his host. "I'm not aheathen. Savvy cook American? Got any

flour you can make biscuits or flapjacksof?"

"You leavee chow to me," said the other."Cookee all same big hotel Seattle,Tacoma, San F'lisco."

"It's quite likely," said Harry, lookinground at Frank. "You can trust a Chinamanto turn out a decent meal. I'll walk round abit in the meanwhile; you can sit here andrest."

Frank did not particularly wish to rest, buthe fancied that his companion had givenhim a hint, and while the Chinaman busiedhimself with his pots and pans he satdown outside the shack. He had been upearly that morning, and after the steady,arduous work at the ranch it was pleasant

to sit still in the strip of shadow and lethis eyes wander idly about the clearing.Among other things, he noticed that a littletrickle of water flowed across it, and thatthe soil was quaggy in the neighborhood.He concluded that the stranger, who hadso mysteriously disappeared, must havecrossed the wet place.

It was some little time before Harry cameback and the Chinaman then set out theirdinner. Frank had no idea what some of itconsisted of and his companion wasunable to enlighten him, but it wasexcellent. When they had finished, the manturned to Harry.

"One dolla," he said gravely.

Harry handed it over readily and smiled at

Frank when they strolled back into thebush.

"It wasn't what I'd figured on when I firstwalked in, but I had to make someexcuse," he said. "Just now I'd very muchlike to know how far it went with him."He paused and looked thoughtful. "I guessit wasn't a very long way. The image isahead of us by a dollar."

Frank laughed. "You had some reason forgoing for that walk?"

"Oh, yes," replied Harry. "I wanted tomake sure of things, and the ground wassoft. There were some footprints in it—going from the shack—and they'd beenmade quite lately by a white man's boot.John sticks to his slipper things in a

general way. Anyhow, it was the man wesaw who left those tracks."

"How do you know that?"

"There were a lot of others about, butthey'd been made earlier. The water hadgot into them, but there was very little inthose I was interested in."

Frank was conscious that this was a pointwhich would probably have escaped hisnotice, but he had not lived in the bush andlearned to use his eyes.

"It's very curious how the fellow got outof the shack without our seeing him," hesaid.

"It looks curious until you begin to think.Now, though I tried to keep my eye on it

all the while, the trees kept gettingbetween me and the shack as we made forit, and what I couldn't see you couldn't seeeither. You were close behind me, which,in one way, was where we were wrong. Ifwe had crept in well apart, the same treewouldn't have bothered both of us, thoughif we'd done that it would have doubledthe chances of our being seen."

"A tree isn't such a very big thing," Frankobjected.

"No," said Harry. "The point is that it willshut an object a good deal bigger thanitself out of your sight." He stopped amoment and pointed toward a neighboringcedar. "We'll say that one's three feet indiameter, but, as you're standing, it willshut off a good deal more than a track

three feet wide through the bush. You wantto run a line from your eye to both edgesof the trunk and then carry them out behindit. The farther you run them, the fartherthey get apart, and as you can't see round acorner, everything in the wedge theyenclose is shut out from view. Got thatinto you? It will come in useful whenyou're trailing a deer."

It was quite clear to Frank now that it hadbeen explained, but his companion wenton.

"Well," he added, "it wouldn't have takenthat fellow more than a few seconds toslip out of the shack and in behind it. Thenif he kept it between him and us he'd behidden until he reached the bush."

"Yes," said Frank. "It must mean that hesaw us, and didn't want us to see him."

"You're getting quite smart," said Harrywith a grin. "I don't know if you noticed it,but you trod on a rotten branch thatsmashed. He didn't want us to know himagain, but I'd pick that fellow anywhere byhis back and walk. Now why was he soanxious that we shouldn't see him talkingto the Chinaman?"

It was a suggestive question, but Frankcould not answer it, and Harry saidnothing further. Reaching the canoe theypaddled down the creek until they cameabreast of the sloop and saw theprovisions lying upon the shingle somelittle distance from the water, for the tidehad ebbed since their arrival. When they

had run the canoe in Frank assisted Harryin getting the flour bag on his back, butgave a sudden cry of dismay as a whitecloud flew all over him.

"Hold on!" he cried. "Put it down. It'srunning out!"

Harry dropped the bag and drew down hisbrows as he gazed at the little pile of flourwhich lay at his feet. Then he suddenlystooped down.

"The bag seemed a sound one," Franksuggested.

"Oh, yes," said Harry shortly. "There'sonly one thing the matter with it. Seehere," and he laid his finger on a long slit."Somebody has stuck a knife into it."

"A mean trick!" Frank broke outwrathfully.

Harry stood up with a flash in his eyes."It's rather more than that. It's a hint.Anyway, if you'll get hold of the other endwe'll pack the bag down with the cutuppermost."

In spite of this precaution they spilled agood deal of the flour before they got it onboard the sloop, but Harry said no moreabout the matter, and hoisting sail they slidout of the inlet with a faint breeze abeamof them. They found it fair and the breezeonly a little stronger when they had left thewoods behind, and Frank sat at the tillerwhile the sloop glided rapidly through thesmooth blue water with no more than adrowsy gurgle beneath her bows. The tide

was running down with them now and itwas only when he glanced toward thebeach that he realized how fast they weregoing.

A pleasant salt odor of drying weed wasmingled with the scent of the firs. In frontof them a wonderful vista of white snowmountains emerged from fleecy cloud, andfar beneath the silvery vapor appeared thefaint and shadowy blurs of distanthillsides clothed with mighty forest.Overhead the big white sail swayedlanguidly to and fro, cutting sharply intothe blue, and Frank felt that he would liketo sail on like this for hours, lounging atthe helm, and listening to the water as itslipped along the sides. With a light fairwind he could guide the boat wherever he

wished by the slightest touch of the tiller,and it was pleasant to see how steadily hecould keep her bowsprit pointing to a lowrocky head that rose, a patch of soft blueshadow, against the evening light.

The voyage, however, came to an endalmost too soon, and the rocks and firswere growing dim when they ran into thecove and picked up their mooring buoy.After they had stowed and covered thesails they went ashore, and both boyswere very tired and warm when theyreached the homestead. Harry's clotheswere covered with flour, which had left awhite trail along the way. Miss Oliverwas standing in the lamplight when theycame in and noticed the white patches ontheir clothes.

"You have let him give you a burst bag!"she exclaimed.

Harry looked meaningly at Frank. "No,"he said, "I think it was all right when itleft the store and I don't think we havespilled more than a few pounds. Perhapswe had better skip it into the barrel. It willsave the stuff from running out when youmove it."

They managed to carry it away betweenthem; and when they had emptied it Harryturned to Frank.

"If she starts talking about that bag, headher off on to something else," he said. "Idon't want her to get imagining troubleevery time we leave the ranch."

When Miss Oliver resumed the subject atsupper Frank attempted to divert herattention, and fancied that he succeeded,though he wondered why she smiled attimes. When the boys had gone to theirroom she picked up the bag and stretchedit out under the light. Then her face grewgrave as she saw the slit in it. Being aclever woman, however, she decided notto mention her suspicions.

CHAPTER VIIISALMON SPEARING

When the boys came in for breakfast nextmorning Jake was standing in the kitchen,and Miss Oliver sat opposite him lookingunusually thoughtful.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked.

Jake turned toward him slowly.

"I don't know that there's anything verywrong," he said. "Leader's come back."

Leader was the name of one of the missinghorses, and Frank started as he

remembered what the storekeeper hadsaid, but feeling Miss Oliver's eyes uponhim, turned his head and looked out intothe clearing.

"Where's Tillicum?" inquired Harry.

"That," replied Jake, "is more than I cantell. Leader was standing outside thestable when I went along and I can't makeout why the other horse wasn't with him.He'd have come with Leader if anybodyhad turned them into the trail together."

Harry called to Frank and went out of thedoor. Jake followed them to the stable,where they found the horse looking ratherjaded, but except for that very little theworse. Jake nodded reassuringly whenHarry had felt him over.

"No sign of anything wrong," he said."There was a good deal of dried mud onhim before I fixed him up, and he seemedmighty keen on his corn. They hadn't givenhim very much."

"What do you make of it?" Harry asked.

"About as much as you do," answeredJake. "They turned him loose on the trailwhen they'd done with him, and that's allthere is to it. I guess the question is whatthey've done with Tillicum. One thing'scertain. If he doesn't turn up, your father'sgoing to be mighty mad."

Harry agreed that this would be veryprobable, though he did not think his fatherwould show it. As there was nothing moreto be said they went back to the house,

where, somewhat to their relief, MissOliver made no allusion to the affair, andthey proceeded quietly to eat breakfast.

"Are there any spring salmon in theriver?" she asked presently, lookingacross at Harry.

"Yes," he responded, "there are a fewcoming up."

"Then you might take Frank with you thismorning and try to get me one. I dare sayJake will smoke it." Miss Oliver smiled atFrank. "You don't get salmon preparedthat way back East."

"We have it canned," said Frank. "I've anidea I've seen some smoked, but I can'tremember. Is it very nice? I thought you

didn't care for salmon here."

"Fresh salmon," Jake said curtly, "is onlygood for hogs, and if you keep it longenough, for growing potatoes with. Still,"he added thoughtfully, "I don't know thatyou call it fresh then."

Miss Oliver laughed. "Wait until you try itsmoked—as Jake does it. He can prepareit as some of the Siwash do. I believe theytaught him in British Columbia."

Jake shook his head solemnly. "No," hesaid, "I can't cure salmon as some of theIndians do. You'd get nothing like it in aNew York hotel, but I guess I can dress it'most as well as any white man. You goalong and get me a fish, Harry. I'd try thepool by the big fall."

They set out a few minutes later, takingwith them a pole which had a big ironhook lashed to it and a long Indian salmonspear. There was a small fork at one endof the latter on which were placed twonicely made bone barbs attached to thehaft by strips of sinew. Harry removedthem to show Frank that they would slipoff their sockets easily. Leaving theclearing, they struck into a narrow trailthrough the bush, and after half an hour'sscramble over fallen logs and throughthick fern they reached the river.

It poured frothing out of shadowy forestand leaped over a rock ledge in athundering fall, beneath which it swirledaround a deep basin, and then aftersweeping down a white rapid, spread out

over a wide belt of stones. There wererocks on either side of it, and, as the treescould find no hold on them, warm sunlightstreamed down upon the foaming water.Harry sat down on a ledge above the poolwith the spear beside him and pointed to agreat bird wheeling on slanted wingsabove the shallow.

"A fish eagle," he said. "Here are salmonmaking up."

Frank watched the circling of the majesticbird, which did not seem much afraid ofthem. It had a white head and a cruel beak,and once when it swept over him henoticed the fixed gaze of its cold,impassive eye. Splendid as it was, hesomehow shrank from the thing. It lookedso powerful and utterly merciless. When it

stopped in the air, dropped, and struck, hesaw a splash as a writhing, silverycreature was snatched up in its talons.

"Got him wrong!" cried Harry. "Youwatch. He'll have to let go again."

So far as Frank could see, the eagle hadseized the salmon by the middle of itsback, the fish twisting itself crossways asit was carried up into the air. The nextmoment there was a splash in the waterand the bird swooped down again. Whenit rose it held its prey differently, andFrank fancied he could see one wickedclaw gripping the fish close by the back ofits neck, while the other was spread outtoward its tail. In any case, the salmon didnot seem able to wriggle now, and theeagle flew off with it and vanished among

the tops of the black firs.

"Not a big fish, but I've a notion the eaglecould lift a thing as heavy as itself," saidHarry. "They're mighty powerful. It mightbe the one he dropped, though I think it'sanother."

Frank had no idea how much an eagleweighed, but he realized something of thecapabilities of a bird that could carry offthis fish apparently without an effort, and,what was more astonishing, drag thetremendously muscular creature out of thewater which was its home. Then hiscompanion touched his shoulder.

"Watch those two fellows in the eddy,"said he. "They're going to rush the fall."

Frank saw two slim shadows shoot outbeneath a wreath of circling foam andflash—which seemed the best word for it—through the crystal depths of the slackerpart of the pool. They were lost in thesnowy turmoil near the foot of the fall, anda few minutes passed before he saw themagain. Then one shot out of the water likea bow that had suddenly straighteneditself, gleamed resplendent with silver,and plunged into the foam again. Harrypointed him out the other, and though itwas a moment or two before he could seeit he marveled when he did. It had itsdusky back toward him, for now and thenthe dorsal fin rose clear, and it wasswimming up a thin cascade which poureddown a steep slope of stone. That anycreature should have strength enough to

stem that rush of water seemed incredible,but there was no doubt that the fish wasascending inch by inch. Then it found amomentary harbor in a little pool justoutside the main leap of the fall, and shotout of it again with its curious uncurvingspring. Frank watched it eagerly when itdropped into the fall, and it was with asense of sympathy that he saw its gallantefforts wasted as it was suddenly sweptdown. Before reaching the bottom,however, it had evidently rallied all itspowers, for it flashed clear into thesunlight, and had recovered a fathom whenhe lost sight of it once more.

After that he glanced back toward theshallows and saw that other birds hadappeared. He did not know what they

were, and Harry could only tell him thatthey were fishhawks of some kind. As hewatched them wheeling or stooping,dropping upon the sparkling stream, andscreaming now and then, the boy began toform some idea of the desperate battle forexistence that is fought daily and hourly bythe lower creation.

"There don't seem to be a great manysalmon," he remarked.

"It's a thin run," said Harry. "There'llprobably be more of them in the next one.Once upon a time, as I expect you'veheard, these rivers were so thick with fishthat you could walk across their backs,though I'll allow I've never seen anythingof that kind."

Frank was not astonished at the lastadmission. This brown-skinned, clear-eyed boy, who could sail a boat and holdthe rifle straight, was not one to talk of thewonderful things he had seen and done.He left that to the whisky-faced sports ofthe saloons who were probably capable ofbutchering a crippled deer at fifty yardswith the repeater.

"I suppose the salmon have plentyenemies," he suggested.

"Oh, yes," said Harry. "In the sea the sealsand porpoises get their share of them.Then, as they head for the rivers, there arethe fish traps, and in Canada the seine-netboats along the shore. After that whenthey're in fresh water they have to run thegauntlet of the Indians, birds, and bears."

"Bears?" Frank interrupted.

"Sure," said Harry. "They're quite smartfishers. Even the little minks get some ofthe salmon stranded in the shallow pools.The Indians set long baskets, narrow enddownward, for them near the top of thefalls. These, of course, are fresh from salt-water—you can see they're silvery—butthey lose that brightness as they go up thelarger rivers, and on the Columbia andFraser they push on hundreds of miles, uptremendous cañons, up falls and rapids,toward the Rockies. Those that fetchheadwaters are scarred and battered, withthe bright scales and most of their fins andtails worn right off them. Once they'rethrough with the spawning they die."

"Then they go straight to the place where

they spawn?"

"Yes, the salmon's really a seafish. It'sborn in fresh water, but it goes down tothe ocean as soon as it's big enough, andit's generally believed that it stays therethree or four years, though it's a fact thatwe know mighty little about the salmonyet. Then it comes back to the same placeand spawns and dies. You see, there's aconstant succession coming up." He brokeoff with a laugh. "Now we'll try to getone. There are three or four big fellowsyonder. All you have to do is to slash atthem with the hook."

Frank perched himself upon a jutting shelfof rock, and presently two or three swiftshadows flitted by. He swung up the poleand made a sudden sweep at them, only to

see the hook splash two or three feetbehind the last one's tail. Incidentally, hecame very near to going headforemost intothe pool. Then another fish swept towardhim, and this time he landed the hooksome inches in front of its nose, afterwhich he made several more attempts,succeeding only in splashing himself allover. He was beginning to discover thathis hands and eyes needed a good deal oftraining. One, it seemed, must judge speedand distance and strike simultaneously, butthe trouble was that he needed a second ortwo to think, and, naturally, while hethought the fish got away.

By and by he turned and watched Harry,who had not struck once yet. He stoodupon a ledge, alert, strung-up, and steady-

eyed, but absolutely motionless, with thelong spear running up above his shoulder.At last, however, he drove his right armdown and the beautiful, straight shaft sankinto the pool. It stopped suddenly for asecond, quivering, and then bent andtwisted upward in the boy's clenchedhands.

Frank ran toward him, wondering that theslender shaft did not immediately break,when he observed that one barb hadslipped off its socket and that the fish,struck by it, was now held by the shortlength of sinew. A moment or two laterHarry jerked it out upon the bank by aquick vertical movement and knocked iton the head. It lay still after this, abeautiful creature of some seven or eight

pounds, with the sunlight gleaming on itssilver scales. Frank glanced once more atthe long spear. It occurred to him that thiswas also perfect in its way and could nothave been better adapted to its purpose.

"It's curious that an Indian should be ableto make a thing like that," he remarked. "Idon't think a white man could turn outanything as handy, unless, of course, hehad one to copy."

"The point is that it took the Siwash amighty long while to make the salmonspear," said Harry. "It's quite likely theyspent two hundred years over it. Theirspears are all on the same pattern, so aretheir traps and canoes." Seeing a puzzledlook cross Frank's face, he smiled. "AnIndian is no smarter than a white man—in

fact, when you stop to think of it, he's nothalf as smart, though most everything hemakes is excellent. It's this way. If wewant a saw for a new purpose or adifferent kind of wood, we write to theDisston people or somebody of the kindand they set their boss designer to work.He considers, and then because he knowsall about the physical sciences he drawsthe thing on paper and sends it to theforges or grinding shops. In a general way,that saw does its work, though I guess ifthe designer had to use it for a year or twohe'd make the next one better."

"Of course," agreed Frank.

"It's different with the Indians," Harrycontinued. "One fellow made a fish spearever so long ago and found that it wouldn't

do. He made the next one different andwas satisfied with it, but his son made it alittle longer and thinner. Then hisgrandson altered the barb, and his sonadded another one. After that each fellowmade it a little handier, until nothing morecould be done to it, and they stuck to thepattern." He turned and glanced at thespear. "This thing is the product of theskill of ever so many generations."

It was simple but convincing, for itexplained the efficiency of the Indian'stools, and also why he had not progressed.He worked along the same line, sticking toone simple implement until he hadperfected it, and, though this was hisgreatest disadvantage, the man who killedthe fish generally made the spear. He got

so far and stopped, content, and incapableof going any farther. The white man, on theother hand, changed his methodscontinually with his changing needs and,what counted more than all, he veryseldom made the tools he used, because hehad discovered that somebody who didnothing else could make them better. Whenthe Americans of the Pacific Slope wantedsalmon they did not whittle spears, butsent east to the cordage factories, whoseowners brought in fibers from all over theworld and spun the netting with which tobuild gigantic fish traps.

"We could do with another fish," venturedHarry. "Let's see if you can get one."

Frank took up his pole again. It was aheavy and clumsy affair, but Harry had

told him that he would probably break theIndian spear. They waited awhile untilanother swift shadow swept around withthe eddy beneath their feet.

"Hold on!" cried Harry. "Wait till thestream heads him and then strike as quickas you can."

The fish's speed was checked for amoment as it entered the furious rushbeneath the fall, and Frank, who could justsee its dusky back amidst the foam, swunghis pole. There was a splash and then acurious shock which sent a thrill throughhim, and the haft jerked sharply in hishands.

"Heave him out!" cried Harry. "That thingwon't break."

Frank tugged with all his might and thesalmon flew up over his shoulder. Thenext moment he had seized it and wasalmost reluctant to let it go when hiscompanion clubbed it on the head.

"Two's as many as we have any use forand we'll go along," said the latter. "Wehaven't made much of a show at thatdraining lately."

Frank would have preferred to stay wherehe was, but he followed Harry toward thebush, and soon after they struck a clearedtrail to the ranch, which was, however,not the way they had come. A little laterthey were somewhat astonished to see agroup of figures among the trees, andhurrying forward they found Mr. Oliverand Mr. Barclay talking to Jake, who

apparently had been driving home two orthree steers.

Mr. Oliver, looking unusually grave,nodded to the boys. "We have just metJake," he said. "He tells me Tillicum'sback a little way up the trail with a brokenleg."

"I guess he's done," murmured Jake,adding significantly, "I wouldn't have lefthim like that if I'd had a gun."

"Go on with the steers," said Mr. Oliver."We'll turn back."

The boys accompanied him and Mr.Barclay, and leaving the trail by and bywhere the bush was thinner they stoppedbefore a pitiable sight. It was Tillicum

who stood awkwardly before them, hishead lowered and one leg that seemeddistorted out of its usual shape hanginglimp. Caked mire was spattered about thepoor animal, its coat was foul, and everyline of its body seemed expressive of painand exhaustion. As it raised its droopinghead and looked at them pitifully, Frankfelt a thrill of hot anger against theoutlaws who were responsible for itscondition. Mr. Oliver stepped up to thehorse and gently felt of its injured limb,after which he turned abruptly toward Mr.Barclay and Frank noticed that his facewas set.

"There's only one thing to be done," hesaid. "Have you a pistol?"

"Haven't you?" his companion asked with

a slight trace of astonishment in his tone.

"If I'd had one would I have wanted toborrow yours?" retorted Mr. Oliver.

"Well," said Mr. Barclay, "it's seldom Icarry one, but in this case it seemedadvisable." He put his hand into hispocket. "Here you are. It's a big caliber."

Mr. Oliver took the weapon and held itbehind him, and turning back toward thehorse, gently stroked its head. Then therewas a flash and detonation, and the beastdropped like a stone. After a moment therancher turned around with a very curiouslook in his eyes, with the smoking weaponclenched hard in his hand.

"I've had that faithful animal six years," he

said in a harsh voice. "We'll get away."

They walked on in silence for a while,and then Mr. Barclay spoke.

"The breaking of its leg was probably anaccident," he suggested.

"Yes," said Mr. Oliver. "It's possible hebroke it after they turned him loose, butthat doesn't seem to affect the case." Hepaused and looked around at hiscompanion. "You understand that I'm withyou right through this thing."

Nothing more was said until theyapproached the ranch, when Mr. Oliverturned to the boys.

"I'll take the fish," he said. "You can go onwith whatever you were doing."

They moved away toward the drain, andwhen they reached it Harry stood still amoment or two.

"It's a long while since I've seen dad lookhalf so mad," he said. "When he sets hisface that way it's sure to mean trouble.Anyway, when I saw Tillicum I felt kindof boiling over—as well as sorry."

"Did you notice what Mr. Barclay saidabout the pistol?" Frank asked.

"Why, of course," said Harry thoughtfully."Now I don't know what they've beenafter, but it's plain enough that there wassome danger in the thing. Mr. Barclaydoesn't seem extra smart, but there'ssomething in his look that suggests hewouldn't be easy scared, and he took a

pistol along." Then he laughed in asignificant manner and jumped down intothe trench. "It's my idea those dopefellows are going to be sorry before dadgets through with them, and now we'll goon with the draining."

He fell to with the grubhoe and for thenext half hour worked furiously, afterwhich Jake appeared and called them in todinner.

CHAPTER IXA PLAIN HINT

Mr. Oliver bought another horse from oneof his scattered neighbors, and a few daysafterward he and Jake set off for an inletalong the coast near which a few rancherslived. Harry explained to Frank that asthey clubbed together and bought theirsupplies from Seattle a little steamer fromthe latter place called at the inlet now andthen to deliver the goods, and his fatherhad ordered a mower which was to besent down by her.

Mr. Oliver did not come back until late in

the evening a couple of days later, but assoon as he arrived he and Jake set to workto put the machine together, and it wasgetting dusk when at last they left itstanding beneath the trees near the edge ofa ravine. Early on the following morningthe boys went back with them to see if itwould work satisfactorily in cutting alittle green timothy, but as they crossed theclearing Jake, who was leading the team alittle distance in front of his companions,stopped suddenly.

"You didn't go back and move thatmachine after we left it?" he asked.

"No," replied Mr. Oliver. "What madeyou think I did?"

Jake looked at his employer rather

curiously. "Well," he said, "somebodymust have moved it. The thing's gone."

Mr. Oliver broke into a run and the restfollowed. When they reached the clump oftrees they could discover no sign of themower, except for the track of wheelsamong the withered needles andundergrowth. This led toward the ravine,at the bottom of which a little waterflowed, and Frank saw Mr. Oliver's faceharden as he followed this guide. Aminute later they stood on the brink of thedeclivity and saw the mower lying uponits side among the stones thirty or fortyfeet below them. The slope was almostprecipitous, but Mr. Oliver went downsliding amidst a rush of loosened soil, andFrank and Harry with some difficulty

scrambled down after him. A glance wassufficient to show them that the implementwas not likely to be of the least use to itsowner. Mr. Oliver examined it quietly andthen clambered back up the side of theravine, after which he sat down and tookout his pipe before he turned to Jake.

"Every bit of cast-iron in it is smashed,"he said. "The pinion wheels are broken,and the other parts are bent. I'll have toorder another one."

Jake made a gesture of sympathy.

"If I could get hold of the folks who didthe thing it would be a consolation, but Ihaven't the least notion how to trail them."

"One man couldn't have moved it," said

Mr. Oliver.

"There were three of them. The questionis, what brought them here? I guess theydidn't come just to smash the machine."

Mr. Oliver seemed lost a moment incontemplation.

"I think you're right," he said at length."They probably came because this is theeasiest way of getting through to thesettlements in the Basker district and thebeach behind the head makes a handylanding. We'll go along and look around. Idon't think they'd try the cove. It's too nearthe house."

They turned into a bush trail together, andwhen they reached the beach a little while

later Jake, stooping over a furrow in thesmooth shingle by the water's edge,looked up at Mr. Oliver.

"A sea canoe grounded here soon afterlast high water," he said. "You can seewhere they ran her down when it hadebbed a little."

Mr. Oliver, who was still quietlysmoking, nodded.

"Yes," he said, "it's very much as Iexpected. With a sheltered landing hereand as good a trail inland as they couldfind, it's not difficult to understand whythose fellows were anxious that I shouldstand in with them, or, at least, leave themalone. This thing, of course, was meant asa warning." Then he addressed the boys:

"You needn't wait. You can get some moreof those branches sawed off in theslashing."

They moved away and left him talking toJake, and it was not until they had reachedthe bush that Harry made any observation.

"I've a notion that we're up against themeanest kind of toughs, but in the long runI'll back dad," he said. "It's quite likelythat if we lie low you and I may get a handin later on."

Frank made no answer, though theprospect his companion suggested was notunpleasant to him. Going back to theirwork they sawed up branches untilnightfall. On the following afternoon theywere still engaged at the same task at

some distance from the house when theysaw Jake, who had set out for aneighboring ranch in the morning, enter theclearing, dragging a big and evidentlyvery unwilling animal after him. He satdown upon a log, and Harry dropped hisax.

"It's Webster's dog," he said to Frank. "Iheard that somebody had given him one.We'll go along and look at him."

They found Jake rather breathless andvery red in face, holding the end of a chainfastened to the collar of the dog, whocrouched close by watching him withwicked eyes and white fangs bared. Aserviceable club lay beside Jake, but itseemed to Frank that he had got as faraway from the animal as the chain

permitted. The lad was, however, notastonished at this, for he fancied he hadnever seen as intractable and generallyunprepossessing a dog as this one.

"Dad's borrowed him from Webster?"Harry suggested.

"It seemed to me Webster was mighty gladto get rid of him and didn't want himback," said Jake. "Guess if he was mine Iwouldn't be anxious to keep him either."

Frank moved a pace or two nearer thedog, holding out his hand, but speedilyretired when it growled at him savagely.After that Jake turned to Harry.

"You're fond of dogs," he suggested."Wouldn't you like to pat him?"

"No," said Harry, edging away. "Iwouldn't try it for five dollars. What kindof a brute is he?"

"Well," said Jake, "I figure that fellow hasa considerable mixture of ancestors,though there's a strain of the bull in him.That's where he got his stylish mouth from.He's about as amiable as a timber-wolf,and he has the gait of a bear, while it's myopinion there's more sense in a plow oxthan there is in him."

"When did you leave Webster's?" Harrynext inquired.

"Soon as dinner was over," respondedJake dryly.

"And supper will be ready soon. What in

the name of wonder have you beendoing?" Harry looked around at Frank."It's about three miles."

Jake grinned. "Coming along—andresting. This fellow kind of decided he'dsit down every now and then, and I lethim. He's a dog that's been accustomed todoing just what he wants."

"Did you have to cross the creek?" askedFrank, who noticed that the man's longboots and part of his trousers were wet.

"No," said Jake curtly. "The critter took anotion he'd like to go in, and as I couldn'tlet him loose, I had to go in, too. Wesplashed around in it for quite a fewminutes."

Harry broke into a burst of laughter andJake handed him the club. "I want to get inby supper. Suppose you put a move onhim."

He stood up and jerked the chain, but thedog bared his teeth again and declined tostir. Harry, getting behind him, tapped himwith the club, and he swung roundsavagely, straining at the chain.

"Now," said Jake, "I know how we'll fixhim. You make him mad and then head forthe ranch while he gets after you, and I'lltry to hold him."

"No," said Harry decisively, "I don't thinkwe'll try that way. Go on and lead him."

The animal moved off at last and

shambled toward the house, lookingbigger and considerably more clumsy thanthe largest bulldog Frank had ever seen.He walked into the kitchen docilely, butwhen Miss Oliver approached him Harrycried out in dismay.

"Keep away!" he warned. "He isn't safe."

"Loose the chain," said Miss Oliver, andto their vast astonishment the dog walkedup to her, wagging his disreputable tail,and crouching down, licked her hands.She patted his great head gently and thenturned smilingly to the boys.

"I'm afraid Webster has been rough withhim," she said. "It's clear that he's awoman's dog."

"A woman's dog?" echoed Harryscathingly. "Well, the man who gave thatbeast to a woman must have been crazy."

During the next few days the dog madehimself at home at the ranch, though withthe exception of Miss Oliver he still eyedits inhabitants suspiciously. Jake said thatthough almost fully grown he was youngand had no sense yet. Then the dogcommenced to follow the boys about at adistance, and once fell upon and destroyedtheir overall jackets which they had takenoff when they went to work. They foundhim sitting upon the tatters, evidentlyfeeling proud of himself, for he waggedhis tail and barked delightedly when theyapproached. As a rule, he did not makemuch noise, but his growl was deep and

ominous, with something in it thatdiscouraged any attempt at unduefamiliarity.

While they were ruefully inspecting theirruined garments Jake came up and leanedagainst a neighboring tree.

"He wants training, Harry," he observed."If he was my dog, I'd break him in."

"The question," retorted Harryindignantly, "is how it's to be done. I'llown up that I know very little abouttraining dogs, and that's not the kind of oneI'd like to begin on." He turned to Frank."Considering that a good many of theranchers live almost alone, it's rather acurious thing that there are very few dogsin this part of the country."

Jake fixed his eyes dubiously upon theanimal, who trotted up a little nearer andgrowled at him.

"Well," he said, "he's sure a daisy, but Iguess he can be taught, and the first thingis to let him see you're not afraid of him."

Harry snickered. "Then suppose you try toprove it. Haul him up by the ear and teachhim he's not to eat my jacket."

Jake judiciously disregarded thissuggestion. "There's one trick most dogslearn quite easy. It's to guard. You putdown some of your clothes, for instance,and make him see that nobody's to touchthem until you come back. Then he'll sittight until you do, and I guess in thisfellow's case there'd be mighty little

wrong with the nerves of the man who'dput a hand on them."

"If it's to be clothes they'll have to besomebody else's," said Harry. "Anyway,I'll mention it to my aunt. It's my opinionshe's the only person who could teach himanything."

How Miss Oliver taught the dog they didnot know, but she succeeded, for when theboys walked up to the house at suppertime one evening a week or two laterHarry, who reached the door first, cameout hurriedly.

"The brute won't let me in," he explained."I confess it sounds kind of silly, butperhaps you'd like to try."

Frank approached the door cautiously andstopped when he reached it. The dogcrouched near the center of the kitchenfloor, with a woman's straw hat in front ofhim from which there trailed a couple ofchewed-up feathers. He looked up atFrank with a low, warning growl whichsaid very plainly, "Come no farther!"

They called him endearing names, which,so far as they could see, had not the leasteffect, but neither of them felt equal toentering the kitchen until Miss Oliverwalked in by another door. Then the doglet her take the hat, wagging his tail withsatisfaction.

"He's a good deal more intelligent thanyou seem to think," she said. "Give himyour hat, Harry, and then go out and wait

for a few minutes before you come backfor it."

Harry did so, and the dog made no troublewhen he picked up the hat, but he wouldnot let Frank go near it in the meanwhile.After that they tried two or three moreexperiments of the same kind, thoughFrank took no part in them, which was athing he regretted when he went for aswim an evening or two later.

On this occasion the tide was almost full,the water in the cove was pleasantly warmand bright sunlight streamed down upon it,showing the white shingle a fathombeneath the surface. Now and then Frankwent down toward it, for he had learnedto swim under water and look about himwhile he did so, but by and by he headed

for the entrance to the cove with theoverhand side stroke which Harry hadtaught him. Swinging his left arm forwardover his head, his face dipped under andthen rose in the midst of a ripple as hishollowed palm swept backward under hiscrooked elbow to his thigh, while his legsswung across each other like a pair ofscissors. The brine gleamed and sparkledas it slipped past him, and when hereached the entrance to the cove he slid upand down the smooth, green undulationswith a pleasant lift and fall. It was soexhilarating that he went farther than hehad intended, and he was feeling a littlebreathless when at last he turned back, butwhen he reached the spot where he hadundressed trouble awaited him.

The dog was seated upon his clothing,watching him with suspicious eyes, and itgrowled when he stood up knee-deep.Frank hesitated. The dog did not lookamiable, but he was beginning to feelcold, and he walked slowly forward apace or two. Then the creature raiseditself on its forepaws, with white fangsbare, and once more broke into a deep,ominous growl. There was no doubt that itintended to guard his clothes.

He threw a piece of shingle at it and wasglad on the whole that he had notsucceeded in hitting it when it stood upwith bristling hair and a most determinedlook in its eyes. Frank floundered backinto the water, wondering uneasily if itwas coming in after him, and then standing

still up to his waist considered what heshould do. It was evident that he could notstay where he was much longer, and thedog showed no sign of going away. It wasequally impossible for him to walk backto the ranch without his clothes, and in themeanwhile he was growing unpleasantlychilly. Then he noticed that although theshadow of the crags above rested upon thespot where he stood the sunshine fell upona boulder which rose out of the water notfar away. Swimming to it he crawled outand found it a little warmer there, but thisbrought him no nearer to finding a way outof the difficulty.

He did not remember how long he layshivering upon the stone, but the shadowhad crept across it and the tall firs above

him showed up more blackly against theevening light, when at last Harry cameclattering over the shingle and stopped inastonishment on seeing him.

"Whatever are you doing there?" he asked.

"Waiting until your dog goes home," saidFrank. "He won't let me have my clothes.If you hadn't come I expect I'd have to stayhere until to-morrow."

Harry couldn't help grinning when heobserved the resolute animal. "Wouldn't ithave been easier to come out and whackhim off?"

"No," said Frank decidedly. "If you werein my place you wouldn't want to try."

Harry walked up to the creature and

picked up the clothes, whereat it roseimmediately and wagged its tail as thoughsatisfied in having done its duty.

"He doesn't seem to mind me," Harryobserved dryly. "Anyway, there's noreason why you shouldn't come out nowunless, of course, you're happier whereyou are."

Frank swam across, dressed, and ran allthe way to the ranch, but it was half anhour before he was moderately warmagain. The next day he set about teachingthe dog to guard. It occurred to him that itwas not desirable that Harry and MissOliver should be the only ones to whomthe animal would give any stray article ofclothing he might come across.

A week or two later Miss Oliver wentaway on a visit to Tacoma, and Mr.Oliver, who had bought a new mower,commenced to cut his timothy hay. Themachine could only work on the clearedland, and where the stumps were thick heset the boys to mow with the scythe. Frankfound it troublesome work, for the bigroots ran along the surface of the ground.The fern had grown up among these roots,and it was their task to cut and pick it outfrom the grass, while every few minutesthe scythe point struck a root andsometimes stuck in it. In places it struckgravel, which made dents in it, and theblade often got entangled among shootingwillows and young fir saplings. Frankdecided that while it was evidently acostly and difficult thing to clear a ranch,

it must be almost as hard for its owner tokeep what he had won, since the forestpersistently crept back again.

"Suppose you left this place alone for acouple of years?" he asked, stopping towhet his dinted scythe.

"You wouldn't know it again," Harryanswered with a smile. "It would be awaste of willows, with young firs growingup between them. You couldn't tell it fromthe bush, only that the trees all roundwould be higher."

Frank dropped his scythe blade andleaned upon the haft. He had been mowingsince sunrise, and the shadows were nowrapidly lengthening. His back ached andhis hands were sore, and he found it a

relief to stand still a moment and lookabout him. On one side of the clearing theslanting sunrays struck deep into theforest, forcing up great columnar trunksout of the shadow. On the other, the frettedpinnacles of the firs cut sharp against thesky, and between stretched long swathesof fallen timothy and fern already turningyellow. Not far away, Mr. Oliver, sittingin the mower's saddle, was guiding histeam along the edge of the grass which fellbeneath the rasping knife, and the clinkand rattle of the machine rang sharplythrough the still, evening air. Frank,stripped to blue shirt and trousers, foundeverything his eyes rested on pleasant, andhe felt that, after all, he had done wiselywhen he left the cities.

Then he noticed Jake, who had been to thesettlement, crossing the clearing withsome letters in his hand. He gave them toMr. Oliver, who pulled his team up andsat still for some minutes reading them.After that he stepped out and walkedtoward the boys.

"You might take the team along, Harry,and put the kettle on the stove," he said."We'll have supper as soon as it's ready."

Harry moved away and Mr. Oliver leanedagainst a neighboring stump with his eyesfixed thoughtfully on Frank.

"I've a letter from your mother," he said."She wants to know if I'm satisfied withyou." He paused a moment and added witha smile: "That's a question I think I can

answer in the affirmative."

"Thank you, sir," said Frank.

"Then," Mr. Oliver continued, "she goesinto one or two other matters on which sheseems to want my opinion. In the firstplace, somebody has offered to find youan opening in the office of a Philadelphiabusiness firm. You'll have to decide aboutit, and it seems to me that the choice israther a big one. You see, if you stay outhere ranching two or three years it willprobably spoil you for a business life inthe eastern cities."

Frank thought hard for a minute or two.There was no doubt that ranching, when itincluded clearing land, as it generallyseemed to do, was remarkably arduous

work. In the case of a man with littlemoney it evidently meant almost incessanttoil, for it was only by persistent effortthat one could chop and saw up the greattrees and grub the stumps out. Still, he wasgrowing fond of it, and, what was more,he was conscious that he was gaining aresolution and muscular vigor that in allprobability he would never have acquiredin the crowded cities.

Finally he looked up. "I don't think Iwould care to go back to them now," hesaid.

Mr. Oliver nodded gravely. "Your motherdoesn't seem to think a great deal of thisopening, but, on the other hand, you wantto bear in mind that if you expect to makemoney in ranching you must be able to

invest it. Raising cattle and fruit for sale isa trade, and a trader gets no more than acertain interest on his money and thewages which an equally capable managingclerk or foreman in the same professionwould receive. There are few respectablebusinesses in which that interest is a verybig one. As the result of this, the tradermust be content with a little unless he hasthe money to earn him more."

"Yes," said Frank somewhat ruefully,"that's clear. I'm afraid I can hardly counton much."

"Your mother mentions that when you arethree or four years older she mightperhaps be able to raise you about twothousand dollars."

"I suppose that wouldn't go very far, sir?"

"It certainly wouldn't buy you a ranchanywhere near a city, but you might getland enough to make a small one back inthe bush. If you bought such a place, youwould probably have to go out and workat one of the sawmills or logging campsnow and then. It would be several yearsbefore you could make much of a living,because it would cost you so much tobring your stock to market."

"Yes," said Frank. "I suppose that is whythe land would be cheap?"

Mr. Oliver made a sign of assent. "It's adifficulty which is, however, usually gotover in this country. You hold on andcultivate your land, and by and by the

market comes to you. Somebody starts asawmill or a pulp mill in the locality, or,if there's ore about, a smelter. New trailsare cut, settlements spring up, andpresently a branch railroad comes along,and the rancher can sell everything he canraise." He broke off for a moment, andsmiled rather dryly. "In such a case youmay get big prices, but if you averagethem out over the years of working andwaiting, you'll find you have earned them,and that, after all, the stuff you sell ismighty cheap."

Then he handed Frank the letter. "I'dconsider it carefully. The mail won't leavefor the next three days, and now we'll goalong to supper."

Harry had managed to prepare a meal, and

when it was over Mr. Oliver turned to theboys.

"A friend of mine in Victoria has writtenasking me to look at a big piece of bushland he thinks of buying on the west coastof Vancouver Island. He offers to pay myexpenses and a fee, and I've an idea thatwe might run across in the sloop if we getmoderately fine weather after the hay is in.I wonder if you would like to go withme?"

There was no doubt that the prospectappealed to them and Mr. Oliver smiledhis approval.

"Then," he said, "you had better hustle thathay in. We'll start as soon as we'rethrough with it."

CHAPTER XA BREEZE OF WIND

The hay was almost in when Frank andHarry stood one evening close under theapex of the roof in the log barn. The cropwas heavy and because the barn wassmall it had been their business during theafternoon to spread and trample down thegrass Jake flung up to them. They had beenworking at high pressure at one task oranother since soon after daylight thatmorning, and now the confined space wasvery hot, though the sun was low. Itsslanting rays smote the cedar shingles

above their bent heads, and the dust thatrose from the grass floated about them in acloud and clung to their dripping faces.Frank felt that the veins on his foreheadwere swollen when they paused a momentfor breath, leaning on their forks.

"I suppose we could get a couple moreloads in, and there can't be more thanthat," said Harry dubiously. "I wouldn'tmind a great deal if the next jumperfulupset."

Frank devoutly wished it would, for hefelt that he must get out into the open air,but a few moments later they heard theplodding oxen's feet and the groaning ofthe clumsy sled. The sounds ceasedabruptly and Jake's voice reached them.

"Tramp it down good!" he called. "You'vegot to squeeze in this lot and another."

Frank choked down the answer whichrose to his lips. But the hay must be got in,and the boys fell with their forks upon thefirst of the crackling grass Jake flung up tothem. There seemed to be more dust in itthan usual, and before the jumper was halfunloaded they were panting heavily. Whenat last the oxen hauled the sled away theystood doubled up knee-deep in the haywith their backs close against the roof.

"I can't see how we're to make room forthe last lot," Harry gasped. "Still, I guessit has to be done."

They set to work again, packing the hayinto corners and stamping it down, and his

occupation reminded Frank of what he hadheard about mining in a thin seam of coal.It seemed hotter than ever, the dust waschoking, and at every incautious move hebumped his head or shoulders against thebeams. The last sled arrived before theywere ready for it, and they crawled abouthalf buried, dragging the grass here andthere with their hands and ramming it withtheir feet and knees into any odd spacesleft. At length the work was finished, andwriggling toward the opening in the wall,Harry caught at the edge of it and finding afoothold on a log beneath boldly leapeddown. Frank was, however, less fortunatewhen he followed his companion, forsome of the hay slipped away beneathhim, and, without the least intention ofleaving the barn in that undignified

fashion, he suddenly shot out through thehole. He felt the air rush past him, andthen, somewhat to his astonishment, foundhimself on the ground, none the worseexcept for the jar of the fall.

"If I'd tried to do that it's very likely I'dhave broken my leg," he panted.

He sat down and threw off his hat. It wasdelightful to feel the breeze upon hisdripping face and to be out in the fresh airagain. He had been at work for fourteenhours, and was aching all over, but thatdid not trouble him. The hay was safely in,and there was some satisfaction in thefeeling that he had done his part in a heavypiece of work. Looking about him henoticed that the shadow of the firs hadcrept half across the clearing, and that thin

wisps of fleecy cloud were streaming byhigh above their tall black tops. Then heheard Harry speaking to his father.

"There's a smart southerly breeze, and thetide is running ebb," he was saying."What's the matter with starting forVictoria right away?"

"Haven't you done enough for to-day?"Mr. Oliver asked with a smile.

"I don't feel as fresh as I did thismorning," Harry admitted. "Anyway, whenwe've got a fair wind and three or fourhours' ebb going with us, it would be apity not to make the most of them."

Mr. Oliver looked doubtful. "I'm anxiousto get away, because, as I've arranged to

meet a man in Victoria, we'll have to takethe steamer unless we can slip across veryshortly. I've an idea that we may get morewind than we'll have any use for beforesun-up. Still, we could run in behind thepoint at Bannington's, if it was necessary."

Then Jake broke in: "If you're going, I'llget supper and pack some bread and porkalong to the sloop."

Mr. Oliver assented, and an hour laterthey paddled off to the sloop. The dogjumped into the canoe with them, andwhen they got on board he quietly satdown on the floorings while Jake helpedthe boys to hoist the mainsail. When theycame to the jib Mr. Oliver stood up on thedeck looking about him.

"I think we'd better have the smaller one,"he advised.

They were ready at length, and Jake, whowas to stay behind, called the dog as hewas about to jump into the canoe. Harrywas busy forward just then with themooring chain in his hand and the loosejib thrashing about him, while the bigmainboom jerked over Mr. Oliver's headas he sat at the helm. The dog, however,showed no signs of moving.

"Give him a shove," said Jake, addressingFrank. "When he gets up on deck, pitchhim in."

Frank turned toward the dog, and thenstopped abruptly when it showed its teethand growled.

"It looks as if he meant to go along," Jakeremarked with a grin. "Prod him with theboathook if he won't move."

Frank was dubious, as he imagined thedog might resent the prodding. At thatmoment Harry, who had been too busy tonotice what was going on, hauled up theweather sheet of the jib.

"I'm clear," he called to his father. "I'llcant her head to lee when you're ready."

Mr. Oliver put the helm up as the bowsswung around, and when the sloop slantedover Jake made a futile grab at the dog.Then shouting to Frank, he dropped intothe canoe and clutched the rail as thesloop forged ahead, but the boy was busywith the mainsheet and did not look up. In

another moment Jake let go. Almostimmediately afterward the sloop cameround, and when she stretched awaytoward the mouth of the cove the canoedropped astern.

"Stand by your jibsheets," called Mr.Oliver. "We'll have to come round again."

They were very busy during the next fewminutes, for the cove was narrow and thewind was blowing in. When at length theyswept out into the open water the dogcrawled up to Harry and licked his hands.Harry looked at his father, who made alittle sign of assent.

"I suppose he'll have to stay," he sighed."When that dog decides on doing anythingit's wise to let him do it. Now we'll

square off the mainboom."

They let the sheet run until the bigmainsail swung right out, and the sloopdrove away, rolling viciously. Short,foam-flecked seas came tumbling afterher, but as the tide was running the sameway under them, lessening the resistance,very few broke angrily. Frank had learnedenough by this time, however, to realizethat it would probably be different whenthe stream turned. In the meanwhile theboat was sailing very fast, with a littleridge of frothing water washing by oneither side when she lifted, and a thinshower of spray blowing all over her.Now and then the great sail with the heavyboom beneath it swung upward in analarming fashion. Frank noticed that Mr.

Oliver's eyes were gazing intently beforehim, and that his hands were clenchedtightly upon the tiller.

"She seems rather bad to steer," he said.

"Yes," said Mr. Oliver, without lookingup. "You have to be careful when you'rerunning before a fresh breeze. It'sremarkably easy to bring the mainsail overwith a bang if you let her fall off too much,and the result of that would probably be totear the mast out of her. It's considerablyworse when there's a big sea comingalong behind."

Frank glanced astern. The sun had goneand the sky was strewn with ranks ofhurrying clouds, while the sea was fleckedwith smears of white.

"Aren't you pressing her a little?" Harryasked. "She'd be easier on the helm if welowered the peak or tied a reef in."

"I'd like to pick up the Hootalquin reefbefore it's dark," answered Mr. Oliver."I'm not sure we'll get very much fartherto-night. You wanted a sail, and I fancyyou're going to be gratified."

During the next hour Frank had to admitthat this remark was warranted. Thebreeze steadily freshened, and there wasno doubt that the sea was rising. It frothedin a white hillock on either side of theboat, and little trails of foam swirledabout her deck. Frank could see that shewas overburdened by the sail she wascarrying, but Mr. Oliver still sat with a setface at the tiller and showed no desire to

leave his post. In the meanwhile it wasgetting dark. Forest and beach had fadedto a faint, shadowy blur and there wasonly a steadily narrowing stretch offoaming water in front of them. Frank wasvery wet and the spray beat upon himcontinually. At length, when the light hadalmost gone, a dusky patch of somethinggrew out of the gathering gloom ahead,and fancying it to be a rocky point, he feltconsiderably relieved, because therewould be shelter behind it. A minute ortwo later Mr. Oliver called to the boys.

"Get forward and ease the peak down," heordered. "Then back the jib. We'll tie tworeefs in."

"Aren't we going in here?" Harry asked.

His father shook his head. "No, it's toodark. I could take her through in thedaylight, but there are one or two rocks inthe channel. We'll have to try forBannington's."

Frank felt a twinge of disappointment.Bannington's was still a good way off, andit seemed to him that the gale wasincreasing every moment. He scrambledforward with Harry, however, and whenthey loosened the rope the tall peak of thesail swung down. Soon after they haddone this Mr. Oliver put down his helm,causing the mainboom to jerk and thrash toand fro furiously, while as the boat cameup head to wind a white sea struck herside and foamed on board her.

"Handy with the throat!" shouted Mr.Oliver. "I don't want to leave the helm."

They slacked another rope, making thegaff sink farther down, after which theytied up about a yard of the inner bottomcorner of the sail to the foot of the mast.This was comparatively easy, but it wasdifferent when, standing in the water onthe lee deck, they grabbed the tacklebeneath the boom and endeavored to pullthe leach, or outer edge, of the mainsaildown. It would not come, and the heavyspar struck them as it jerked in board,flinging Frank off into the well.

"Get another pull on your topping lift,"ordered Mr. Oliver.

They jumped forward to do it, but it

proved no easy task, for they had to raisethe outer end of the heavy boom. Theywere struggling with the tackle again whenMr. Oliver laid both hands on the rope.

"Now," he shouted, "heave, and bowseher down!"

They succeeded this time, and afterwardhung out over the water while they knottedthe reef-points beneath the spar. Thenwhen they had trimmed the jib over Mr.Oliver put up his helm and the sloopdrove on again into the darkness withshortened sail.

The boys sat down as far under the sidedeck as they could get, out of the worst ofthe spray, with the dog crouching in thewater which washed about the floorings at

their feet.

"Why didn't your father help us more thanhe did?" Frank asked presently.

"He couldn't leave the tiller for more thana moment or two," said Harry. "WhenJake and I reefed her the day we took youoff the steamer there wasn't as much wind.Of course, there are boats in which youcan lash the helm, but that's not alwayspossible. If dad had let go the tiller she'dhave fallen off and started sailing, whichwould have dragged the tackle from ourhands or pitched us in, and then she'd havecome up again banging and shaking. Hekept her heading so that the mainsail waslifting slack with no weight in it."

Frank was commencing to realize that the

handling of a sailboat was rather a fineart. It is as much of a machine as asteamer, but it is also of the kind whoseefficiency depends directly upon thehuman eye, hand and brain. Man hasevolved a number of such instruments, andin the right hands they are far morewonderful than the others. Any one, forinstance, can learn the pianola, but toextract fine music from a Cremona violinis a very different matter.

It blew steadily harder, and there was, asFrank noticed, a difference in the sea, forthe flood stream was now setting upagainst them and was growing shorter andmore turbulent. There was a smallerinterval between the waves, whichseemed to become steeper and less

regular. They curled over and broke aboutthe boat with a sound that reactedunpleasantly upon Frank's nerves, and hewas thankful that he could, after all, seevery little of them. The sloop's motionalso changed. One moment she seemed tobe moving almost slowly, and the next sheswung up in a quick, savage rush, with herbows in the air and the white foam boilinghigh about her. Sometimes, too, there wasa thud and a splash astern, and the deckswere swept by a deluge of seething water.

In the meanwhile the boys had contrivedto light a lamp in a little box which held acompass, and they laid it on the thwartbefore Mr. Oliver, though, as he explainedin a word or two, it was particularlydifficult to steer an exact course in a sea

of that kind. It was on the boat's quarter,that is, she was traveling with the windalmost behind her at a long slant acrossthe course of the waves, but each time anextra big wave foamed up astern Mr.Oliver let her fall off and run right downwind with it to prevent its breaking onboard.

Frank wondered how he did it, for theseas were following them and it was quitedark, but Mr. Oliver had no need to lookaround. He had for guides the sound of theoncoming seas, the pull of the tiller, andthe motion of the boat, and, besides, fromlong experience his brain worked sub-consciously. He did not pause to considerwhen the bows climbed out and the sternsank down in a rush of foam, and had he

done so, in all probability he would havebrought the big mainboom smashing over.To run a fore-and-aft rigged craft, and asloop in particular, before a badlybreaking sea, is a difficult and somewhatperilous thing, and the ability to do itcomes only from long acquaintance withthe water, and, perhaps, from something inthe helmsman's nature.

The boat sped on furiously, though theypresently lowered the peak down toreduce the sail further, and by degreesFrank became conscious of an unpleasantnervous tension that seemed to sap awayhis hardihood. There was nothing to do inthe meanwhile, but he felt that if he werecalled upon for any difficult or hazardousservice he would find himself incapable

of it. He was drenched and shivering, andhe did not want to move. He only wishedto cower beside Harry under the partialshelter of the coaming. This was,however, a feeling that other folksoccasionally experience who go to sea insmall vessels, which they have to grapplewith and overcome. It is when there is noparticular call on him, and he can onlystand by and watch, that terror gets itsstrongest hold on the heart of a man.

At length Mr. Oliver called to the boys."We must be close abreast ofBannington's," he said. "The end of thepoint should be to leeward. Get forward,Harry, where you can see out beneath thejib."

Frank followed his companion as he

crawled up on the little deck. He did notwant to seem afraid, but he held on tightwith one hand when they knelt in the waterthat splashed about them. He could see thefrothy seas beneath the black curve of thejib, but for what seemed a very long whilethere was nothing else. Then Harrysuddenly raised his voice.

"Point's right ahead!" he sang out, and thenext moment jumped to his feet. "There's ablack patch a little to weather."

"Up peak for your lives!" cried Mr.Oliver.

He left the helm with a bound, and allthree struggled desperately with a rope,while as the bagged mainsail extended andstraightened out a sea broke on board the

boat. Then they floundered aft and draggedin the mainsheet with all their might, afterwhich Mr. Oliver jumped for the helmagain, while the boys flattened in the jib.

"We're the wrong side of the point,"gasped Harry. "I'm not sure she'll beatround it."

There was no difficulty in imagining whatwas likely to happen if she failed to do so,and Frank, who did not think she wouldlast long if she washed up among theboulders before the sea that was running,clung to the coaming in a state of tensesuspense. What seemed to be a continuoussheet of spray whirled about him, the boatslanted over at an alarming angle with halfher lee deck in the sea, and the tops of theconfused breaking waves through which

she plunged washed all over her. Thiswas sailing with a vengeance, and a verydifferent thing from lounging at the tillerwhile she swung smoothly across thewater before a fair wind. She was nowthrashing to windward for her life, withthe full weight of the sea on her weatherbow and a foam-swept reef lying in waitclose to lee of her, and whether she wouldclaw off it or not depended largely uponher helmsman's skill.

Frank could see him dimly, a black shapegripping the tiller, and he wasunpleasantly aware of the fact that therewould speedily be an end of them all if helost his nerve for a moment or made ablunder. It happens now and then at seathat the safety of crew and vessel hangs

upon the brute strength of human muscleand the simple valor which enables a manto do what is required of him on themoment without flinching; emptyassurance and a consequential air are ofuncommonly little service then. Suchoccasions are a very grim test ofmanhood, and, as a rule, it is not the loudtalker who best stands that strain.

Frank admitted afterward that he wasbadly scared, which was not in the leastunnatural. It was more important that heshould nevertheless realize that it was hisbusiness to trim the jib over when thiswas necessary. His companion, who wasgazing to leeward, presently raised hisvoice.

"Broken water close ahead," he

announced.

"Stand by your jib!" shouted Mr. Oliver."We must try to heave her around."

Frank let the lee sheet run, groping deep inthe water for it as Mr. Oliver put down thehelm, and with a frantic thrashing ofcanvas the sloop came up into the wind.There was a moment of suspense duringwhich she seemed to stop, and the boy felthis heart thumping furiously. He knew thatif she fell off again on the previous tacknothing could save her from going ashore.Suddenly he heard Harry call to him.

"Haul it up!" he shouted. "We have to boxher off."

Frank hauled with all his might, and the

thrashing of the head sail ceased. It caughtthe wind, and a sea fell upon the boat asthe bows swung around. Then they jumpedto the opposite side of her and struggleddesperately to haul the lee sheet in as sheforged ahead again, after which there wasnothing to do but wait and wonder if shewas driving in toward the shore orworking out toward open water. Theystood on for half an hour, seeing nothing,and then came round half-swamped, onlyto stagger away on the opposite tack,running once more into horribly brokenwater. As they did so Harry shouted thatthere were boulders, the end of the point,he fancied, close to lee.

"She won't come about in the rabble," saidMr. Oliver.

It was evident that they must now eitherscrape around the point on that tack or goashore, and Frank felt his nerves tingle ashe gazed into the spray. He fancied thatthere was something black and solidbeyond it, but could distinguish nothingfurther. Then the blackness faded, the seaseemed to become a little more regular,and Harry cried out hoarsely, "We'reround!"

"Down peak!" called Mr. Oliver. "We'llhave to jibe her."

Frank had learned that to jibe a boat is toturn her around stern to wind, instead ofhead-on, which is the usual way, andscrambling forward with Harry he helpedlower the peak. After that they againfloundered aft, leaving the mainsail

reduced in size, and grabbed the sheet asMr. Oliver put up his helm. The bowsswung around as the boat went up with asea, and the big boom tilted high up intothe darkness above the boys. Theystruggled savagely with the sheet, whichslightly restrained it, until the boat rolledsuddenly down upon her side as the sailjerked over and the rope was torn swiftlythrough their hands. There was a crash anda bang, and Frank was conscious that thewater was pouring over the coaming. Heclung to the sheet, however, and while Mr.Oliver helped them with one hand they gota little of it in, after which the sloop,rising somewhat, drove forward. A fewminutes later the sea suddenly becamesmoother, the wind seemed cut off, andFrank made out a black mass of rock

rising close above them. They ran onbeneath it until Mr. Oliver, rounding theboat up, bade them pitch the anchor over.

CHAPTER XIMR. BARCLAY JOINS THE

PARTY

When the boat brought up to her anchor theboys spent some time straightening up hergear and pumping her out. The work put alittle warmth into them, but they were gladto crawl into the cabin when it was done.There was scarcely room in it to situpright, and with the moisture standingbeaded everywhere it looked rather likethe inside of a well. Mr. Oliver hadlighted the stove and a lamp was burning.By and by he took off a hissing kettle, and

when they had made a meal they lay downin their wet clothes amidst a raffle of moreor less dripping ropes and sails.Fortunately, the place was warm, andFrank was thankful to stretch himself outalong the side of the boat. He wasdiscovering that mental strain of the kindhe had undergone during the last few hoursis as fatiguing as bodily labor.

But he did not immediately go to sleep.The craft rocked upon the long swellwhich worked in round the point, withnow and then a sharp rattle as she pluckedhard at her cable. Sometimes she swungsuddenly around upon it as an eddyingblast swept down from the rocks above,and the drumming of the halliards againstthe mast broke continuously through the

moan of the wind among the trees ashoreand the deeper rumble of the ground sea.At last, however, he fell into a heavyslumber, and it was daylight and Harryhad put the spider on the stove when heawoke again. He made his breakfastbefore he went out on deck, to find that thewind had dropped a little and it wasraining hard. The dim, slate-green waterlapped noisily upon the wall of rock closeby, and glancing seaward he saw nothingbut a leaden haze and a short stretch oftumbling combers. Mr. Oliver had goneout earlier and was standing on the decklooking about him.

"There's no great weight in the wind,though the sea's still rather high," he saidpresently. "I think we can push on for

Victoria."

Frank, who fancied they would not getthere before that night, was by no meansso keen about the sail as he had been onthe previous day. He felt that it would beconsiderably pleasanter to remain in theshelter of the point until the sun came outor the wind went down, and it seemed tohim that Harry shared his opinion. Thedog also looked very draggled andmiserable and had evidently had enough ofthe voyage. They, however, set themainsail, leaving the reefs in, hauled upthe anchor, and hoisted the jib as the sloopstretched out across the waste of tumblingwater, after which the boys went below tostraighten up the breakfast things. Frankonce or twice felt a little sick as he did so,

and he noticed that Harry wore asomewhat anxious look.

"It's not blowing as hard as it was whenwe ran in, but I don't think dad would havegone unless he'd some particular reason,"Harry said at length. "I wonder who theman is he expects to meet in Victoria,because I'm inclined to believe it's not theone who wants him to look at the land.The worst of dad is that he keeps such alot to himself."

They crawled out again shortly afterwardand found the seas getting longer andbigger. Once or twice a blur of somethingwent by that might have been the end of anisland, and Mr. Oliver changed his coursea little, but after that the dim, green waterstretched away before them empty and

only broken by smears of snowy froth, andthe sloop drove on before the comberswhich came up out of the haze astern ofher in long succession.

It was toward noon, and Mr. Oliver hadgone into the cabin to get dinner ready,leaving Harry at the helm, when, glancingaround, Frank saw an indistinct mass ofsomething break out of the mist. It grewinto the shadowy shape of a steamer whilehe watched it.

"There's a big vessel close by," he said,touching his companion's arm.

Harry glanced over his shoulder. "Sure,"he nodded. "What's more, she's comingright along our track. Get in somemainsheet while I luff her."

He changed the sloop's course a trifle, butin the meanwhile the steamer was growingin size and distinctness with a marvelousrapidity. Her great bow seemed to berising out of the water like a headland,over which Frank could just see the tiersof white deckhouses, one mast, and the tallsmokestack. Then he glanced forward atthe sloop's wet deck and the low strip ofher double-reefed mainsail, looking verysmall among the tumbling seas, and itoccurred to him that it would probably bedifficult for the steamer's lookout to seethem. He felt rather anxious when heglanced back astern.

"She still seems to be coming right downon us," he said.

Harry called his father, who hurried out

and glanced at the vessel.

"Shall we get up and yell?" the boy asked.

"No," said Mr. Oliver curtly, "theycouldn't hear you to windward. Let hercome up farther."

Frank helped drag some more mainsheetand then looked around again with a veryunpleasant thrill of apprehension. Theblack bow seemed almost above them,and the sea leaped against a wall of platesas the great mass of iron swung slowly outof it and sank down again. Then fromsomewhere beside the smokestack a streakof white steam blew out and a greatreverberatory roar came hurtling aboutthem. Mr. Oliver's anxious face relaxed.

"They've seen us," he said. "Her helm'sgoing over."

The bow drew out and lengthened into anincreasing strip of side. Another mastbecame visible, with a double row ofwhite deckhouses and a tier of boatsbetween. Here and there a cluster ofdiminutive figures showed up among them,and then the great ship sped by with thewhole of her size revealed. The sloopplunged madly on her screw-torn wake,but in another minute or two she haddrawn away and was melting into the hazeagain.

"A big boat," said Mr. Oliver. "She wasvery close to us. You had better keep youreyes open while I get dinner."

The rest of the dismal day passeduneventfully, but toward evening the hazecommenced to roll aside and they sawblurred black pines looming up ahead ofthem. A little later they ran into Victoriaharbor, and, hiring a Siwash to take themashore, walked through the streets of whatstruck Frank as a very handsome city untilthey reached a hotel. Here they orderedsupper, and after the meal was over theboys, who had changed their clothes, satwith Mr. Oliver in the almost desertedsmoking room. He seemed to be expectingsomebody, which somewhat astonishedFrank, but he noticed that Harry smiledmeaningly when Mr. Barclay walked in.He was dressed in light-colored sportinggarments, with a belt around his waist anda leather patch on one shoulder, and there

were gaudy trout flies stuck in his littlecloth cap. He threw the cap on the tablebefore he shook hands with Mr. Oliverand the boys, smiling as he caught Harry'seye.

"Well," he asked, indicating the flies,"what do you think of them?"

Harry grinned again as he laid his fingeron one.

"You're not going to get many trout withthat fellow, unless they've different habitsin British Columbia. They won't come onfor quite a while."

Mr. Barclay removed the fly and put itinto a wallet.

"Thanks," he said. "It's some time since I

did any fishing." Then he seemed to noticethe manner in which the boy wassurveying his clothing. "It's a sport's get-up, but are you acquainted with any reasonwhy a United States citizen shouldn't get alittle innocent amusement catchingCanadian trout?"

"No, sir," answered Harry coolly. "Still,there are quite a few trout in the rivers onthe American side of the boundary. Itmakes one wonder if you had anythingelse in view besides fishing in coming toBritish Columbia."

Mr. Barclay regarded him with an air ofironical reproof.

"In a general way, young man, it's mostunwise to blurt the thing right out when

you have a suspicion in your mind. It'sbetter to let it stay there until you havegood cause to act on it." He turned to Mr.Oliver. "I'm inclined to doubt theadvisability of leaving your sloop lyingwhere she is in full view of the wharf."

"Then you recognized her?"

"At a glance. The trouble is that there areone or two acquaintances of yours whomight do the same."

Mr. Oliver looked thoughtful.

"I've been considering that, but it wasgetting dark when we ran in, and we hadbetter move the first thing to-morrow.Now with this unsettled weather I'm notvery keen on sailing up the west coast,

which is open to the Pacific, and the placewe are bound for is rather a long way."

"Then go east," advised Mr. Barclay."There are a number of inlets on that sideof the island within easy reach of therailroad, and you ought to reach thenearest of them in a few hours. I'll go onwith the cars to-morrow, and if you don'tget in at one of the way stations, I'll waitfor you at Wellington. Then we couldcross to the west coast by the Albernistage and hire a couple of Indians and asea canoe. It wouldn't be a long run fromthere."

Mr. Oliver agreed to this, and getting upearly next morning, they slipped out of theharbor, and some hours afterward creptinto a forest-girt inlet, where they left the

sloop. There was a depot nearby, andgetting on board the cars when the nexttrain came in, they found Mr. Barclayawaiting them. Early in the afternoon theyalighted at a little wooden, colliery town,and next day they crossed the island in thestage over a very rough trail which ledthrough tremendous forests. Once theypassed a wonderful blue lake lying deep-sunk between steep walls of hills. Thenthey crossed a divide and came windingdown into a valley with water flashing atthe foot of it. It was evening when theyarrived at a straggling settlement on thebanks of a riband of salt water twistingaway among the forest-shrouded hills, andfound several Indians there who had comeup in their sea canoes.

Mr. Oliver hired a couple of them, andthey started after they had purchased a fewstores. A light, pine-scented breeze wasblowing down the valley when they thrustthe canoe off from the shingle. They hadno sooner done so, however, when the dogarose with a deep growl which indicatedthat he objected to the Indians going withthem. As his actions did not seem to havethe desired effect he seized the nearestIndian by the leg, and it was only whenHarry belabored him with a paddle that hecould be induced to let go. Then he barkedat them savagely until Frank drew himdown upon his knee with a hand about hisneck, while the Siwash raised two littlemasts. In the meanwhile the boy watchedthe men with interest, and decided thatthey had very little in common with the

prairie Indians he had seen in pictures andfrom the cars.

They were dressed neatly in clothes whichhad evidently been purchased at a store,and though their faces were brown andtheir hair rather coarse and dark there wasnothing else unusual about them. Theytalked with Mr. Oliver and Mr. Barclayfreely in what Harry said was Chinook, areadily learned lingua-franca in use onparts of the Pacific Slope. Then Frankfixed his attention upon the canoe, a long,narrow, and beautifully shaped craft withthe usual tall, bird's-head bow. She wasrather shallow, but Harry said that thismade her paddle fast. He added thatthough these canoes would sail reasonablywell when the breeze was fair the Indians

usually drove them to windward with thepaddle unless the sea was too heavy, inwhich case they generally made for thebeach and pulled the craft out.

Frank remembered that this, or somethinglike it, was the ancient practice, and that itwas only by slow degrees that man haddiscovered he could still make the windpropel his vessel to its destination when itblew from ahead. Greek and Romantriremes, Alexandrian wheat ships, andViking galleys, had made wonderfulvoyages, and they all carried sail, but theyset it only when the wind was fair. Whenit drew ahead they stowed their canvasand thrashed the lean hull through the seaswith their long oars. Now, after perfectinghis vessel's under-water body, inventing

the center board, and learning how tomake flat-setting sails, man was goingback to the old-time plan, only that insteadof relying upon the muscle of close-packed rowers he used improvedpropellers, tri-compound reciprocatorsand turbines.

One of the Siwash shook out the twospritsails which sat on a pole stretching upto the peak from the foot of the mast, andwhen he had led the sheets aft hiscompanion knelt astern with a paddle heldover the gunwale. Slanting gently down tothe faint breeze, the craft slid awaythrough the smooth, green water with along ripple running back behind her. Thelog houses dropped astern and were lostamong the trees, a valley filled with

somber forest, and a rampart of tallhillside, slipped by, and as they crept onfrom point to point the strip of still waterstretched away before them betweensomber ranks of climbing trees.

Frank had no idea how far they had gonewhen the light began to fail, though hefancied that the shallow craft, nowslipping forward so smoothly, was sailinga good deal faster than she seemed to be.At length one of the Siwash loosened thesheets and stowed the sails, while hiscompanion turned the bows toward thebeach. She slid in and grounded gently ona bank of shingle in a little cove, where agigantic forest crept down to the water.They got out and ran her up, filled theirkettle at a tinkling creek, hewed resinous

chips from a fallen fir, and built a fire.Then they cut armfuls of thin sprucebranches with which to make their beds,and presently sat down to an amplesupper.

When it was over the Indians went downto the canoe, and Mr. Oliver and Mr.Barclay drew a little apart from the boys.Frank, lying near Harry beneath a bigcedar, raised himself up on one elbow andwatched the firelight flicker upon themighty trunks. On the one hand they werelost in the gloom of the dense mass ofdusky foliage, but on the other their greatbranches cut against the sky, which wasstill softly blue, and a blaze of silverradiance stretched across the water, for ahalf-moon had just sailed up above the

opposite hill. Out of the silence there stolea faint whispering from the tops of thetaller trees and the languid lapping ofwater among the stones, but there was noother sound, and once more Frank wasglad that he had not exchanged thestillness of the wilderness for the turmoilof the cities. He had now definitelydecided to become a rancher.

It grew colder by and by, and wrappinghis blanket around him, he wriggled downcloser among the yielding spruce twigs.The great trunks grew dimmer and thesmoke wisps which drifted among thembecame less distinct. By degrees they allgrew mixed together—a confusion ofsliding vapor and spectral trees—and hewas conscious of nothing more.

CHAPTER XIITHE STRANGER

A couple of days later the party pitchedtheir camp in the depths of a lonely valleysloping to the Pacific, which was not faraway. It was filled with great redwoods,balsams and cedars, and as Frank gazed atthe endless rows of towering trunks itstruck him as curious that Mr. Oliver'sfriend should think of buying this tract ofgiant forest for ranching land. He said soto Harry, who laughed.

"There's no rock or gravel on it and thatcounts for a good deal," said his

companion. "If the soil looks as if itwould grow things, it's about all theaverage man expects on this side of theRockies. A few trees more or less don'tmatter. It's the same with us right down thePacific Slope; the only difference is thaton this island the firs seem just a littlebigger." He appeared to admit the latterfact reluctantly, adding, "I guess that'sbecause it's wetter in Canada."

They were standing outside a little tent ofthe kind most often used in the Westernbush. It was supported by a ridge poleresting at either end upon two more, whichwere spread well apart at the bottom andcrossed near the top. A short branch staystretched back from each pair, and a fewturns of cord lashing held the whole frame

together. They had cut the poles in fiveminutes in the bush, and had brought thelight cotton cover with them rolled up in abundle. A good many men in that countrylive in such shelters during most of theyear. Mr. Barclay sat on one of the hearthlogs which were rolled close together infront of the tent and Mr. Oliver stood inthe entrance.

"But the place must be such a tremendousway from a market," said Frank inresponse to Harry's last remark.

Mr. Oliver smiled. "It's not long since Itried to explain that a good many of thebush ranchers have to wait until the marketcomes to them. They stake their dollarsand a number of years of hard work on thefuture of the country."

"Some of them get badly left now andthen," said Mr. Barclay dryly. "You'll findlaid-out townsites that have never grownup all along the Pacific Slope. There arestores and hotels falling to pieces in oneor two I've struck." Then changing thesubject: "Are you boys coming acrosswith me to the river for some fishing to-morrow?"

They said that they would be glad to doso, and Mr. Barclay turned to Mr. Oliver."We'll give you another two days to finishyour surveying, and then we'll meet you atthe rancherie on the inlet we spoke of. Wecan camp in the bush outside the tent for acouple of nights."

They started early the next morning, takingone Indian with them to pack their

provisions, and the dog, who insisted onaccompanying them. They were ploddingalong a hillside toward noon when Mr.Barclay, who was walking in front withtheir guide, looked back at the boys.

"Get hold of the dog as soon as we stopand keep him quiet," he cautioned.

After that they moved forward in silencefor some minutes while the trees grewthinner ahead of them, until Mr. Barclaystopped behind a brake of undergrowth.The dog broke into a short, throaty barkand then growled hoarsely until Frankknelt beside him and laid a hand upon hiscollar. When he had quieted the animal,who by degrees had become attached tohim, he arose and found he could lookdown upon a narrow slit of valley into

which the sunlight poured. A creekswirled through the bottom of it, and hewas astonished to see a swarm of blue-clad figures toiling with grubhoe andshovel upon its banks, and a cluster ofbark shelters in the widest part of thehollow.

"Chinamen!" he said. "What can they bedoing? One never would have expected tofind a colony of them here."

Mr. Barclay smiled in a somewhat curiousfashion.

"They're washing gold. It's a remarkablysimple process, if you're willing to workhard enough. You shovel out the soil andsand and keep on washing it until it's allwashed away. Any gold there is remains

in the bottom of the pan."

"But if there's gold in that creek, how is itthere are no white men about?"

"Probably because they couldn't makewages. There's a little gold in a number ofthe creeks right down the Slope, but wherethe quantity's very small nobody but aChinaman finds it worth while to look forit."

Mr. Barclay sat down and spent someminutes apparently carefully watching theblue-clad figures toiling in the sunlightbelow, after which he got up and signaledfor them to go on again. The boys,however, dropped a little behind, andpresently Harry gave his companion anudge.

"I guess you noticed that when you saidone wouldn't have expected to find thoseChinamen here Barclay didn't answer it?"

"Yes," said Frank thoughtfully. "I supposeyou mean he wasn't astonished when hesaw them?"

"You've hit it, first time," Harry assented."That man's on the trail, and though I can'ttell you exactly who he's getting after, I'vemy ideas." He paused with a chuckle. "I'mnot sure now he's quite so much of astuffed image as he seemed to be."

Frank said nothing in answer to this. Afew minutes later Harry touched his armas Mr. Barclay, turning suddenly, shouted:

"Get hold of the dog!"

Frank grabbed at the animal's collar butmissed it, and the next moment the dog hadvanished. Then there was a crash in thebush, and a beautiful slender creature withlong legs and little horns shot out frombehind a thicket and flung itself high intothe air. It fell again, this time withscarcely a sound, into a clump of fern,rose out of it, and in a wonderful boundcleared a fallen trunk with brokenbranches projecting from it. Then it waslost in another thicket and the dog's harshbarking rang through the silence of thewoods. Once or twice again Frank caughta momentary glimpse of a marvelouslyagile creature rising and falling among theundergrowth, and then there was only theyelping of the dog which became fainterand fainter and finally broke out at

irregular intervals. Mr. Barclay sat downupon the fallen trees.

"I suppose we'll have to wait until thatamiable pet of yours comes back," hesaid. "On the whole it's fortunate the deerbroke out now instead of a quarter of anhour earlier."

They waited a considerable time beforethe dog crept up to them wagging hisragged tail in a disappointed manner.Harry shook his fishing rod at himthreateningly.

"I'd lay into you good, only it wouldn't beany use," he said. "The more you'rewhacked, the worse you get."

The dog wagged his tail again and jumped

upon Frank, who patted him before theyresumed the march.

"It's rather curious, but that's the first deerI've seen since I've been in the country,"he said. "Do they always jump like that?"

"Well," said Harry, "in a general way theyare quite hard to see, and you can walkright past one without noticing it when it'sstanding still. Their colors match thetrunks and the fern, and, what's moreimportant, it's not often you can see thewhole of them. In fact, I've struck as manydeer by accident as I've done when I'vebeen trailing them. Now and then youalmost walk right up to one, though Ihaven't the least notion how it is they don'thear you, because as a rule the one you'retrailing will leave you out of sight in a

few moments if you snap a twig. Anyway,a scared deer goes over whatever lies infront of him. There are very few things hecan't jump, and he comes down almostwithout a sound."

The rest of the journey proved uneventful,and early in the evening they made campon the banks of a frothing river whichswept out of the shadow crystal clear. Inthis it differed, as Harry explained, frommost of the larger ones on the PacificSlope, which are usually fed by meltedsnow and stained a faint green. Mr.Barclay, whose boots and clothes werealready considerably the worse for wear,sat down beside a swirling pool and tookout his pipe.

"There's no use pitching a fly across it yet,

I suppose," he said. "We may as well getsupper before we start."

The Siwash prepared the meal andremained behind with Mr. Barclay when itwas over, while the two boys went downstream with a rod he had lent them whichHarry insisted Frank should take. Therewere, he urged, plenty of trout in the rivernear his father's ranch, though it was veryseldom he had leisure to go after them.They wandered on some distance besidethe water, which ran almost west towardthe Pacific, and wherever the forest was alittle thinner the slanting sunrays streamingbetween the serried trunks smote along it.Frank, who had, as it happened, once ortwice got a week or two's fishing in theEast, kept his eyes open, but it was only

twice that he fancied he noticed the faintdimple made by a short-rising trout.

"I'd have expected to find a river of thiskind thick with fish," he said.

"There's sure to be a good many in it,"answered Harry. "You wait about anotherhalf hour."

"What's the matter with starting now?"urged Frank. "Isn't that one rising in theslack yonder?"

"See if you can get him," said Harry,smiling.

Frank swung the rod, straining every effortto make a neat, clean cast, and hesucceeded. The flies dropped lightly abouta foot above the dimple made by the fish,

and swept down stream across the spotwhere he had reason to suppose it waswaiting. There was no response, however,and nothing broke the rippling surfacewhen the flies floated down a secondtime. Frank laid down the rod.

"It's curious," he murmured.

Harry laughed. "Hold on a little. You'veseen three fish rising now, and that's quiteout of the common."

Frank sat down again, and waited until thesunlight faded off the river and the firsabout it suddenly grew blacker. Soonafterward what seemed an almost solidcloud of tiny insects drifted along thesurface of the water, which wasimmediately broken by multitudinous

splashes.

"Now you can begin," said Harry.

Frank, clambering to a ledge of rock,swung his rod, and as the flies sweptacross an eddy there was a splash and aswirl and a sudden tightening of the line.He got the butt down as the winchcommenced to clink, and Harry waded outinto the stream lower down, holding hiswide hat.

"Let him run, but keep a strain on," hecried. "You've got a big one."

The fish fought for three or four minutes,gleaming, a streak of silver, through theshadowy flood, as it showed its side, thensprang clear and changed again to a half-

seen dusky shape that drove violently hereand there. Then it came up toward thebending point of the rod, and at lengthHarry, slipping his hat beneath it, lifted itout.

"Nearly three quarters of a pound," hesaid. "Your trace is clear now. Try again,and never mind about the slack andeddies. Pitch your flies anywhere."

Frank did so, and they had scarcely fallenwhen there was a second rush, but this fishseemed smaller and he dragged it outunceremoniously upon the shingle. It wasthe same the next cast, and for a while hewas kept desperately busy. When at lengthhe laid the rod down Harry announced thatthey had a dozen fish.

"We'll try the next pool now," he added."Some of these trout aren't half a poundand I'd like you to get a real big one."

The next pool proved to be some distanceaway and there was nothing but rock andfoaming water between, but when theyreached a slacker place where the currentcircled around a deep basin Frank hadfour or five more minutes' fishing, duringwhich he landed several trout. Then theflies seemed to vanish and there wasscarcely a splash on the shadowy water.

"You may as well put the rod up," Harryadvised. "It's a sure thing you won't getanother."

Frank tried for a few minutes, but findinghis companion's prediction justified, sat

down near him among the roots of a bigfir. At the foot of the pool where he hadbeen fishing the stream swept furiouslybetween big scattered boulders in a wildwhite rapid. It was narrower there, and aledge of rock, slightly hollowed outunderneath, rose above it on the side onwhich they sat a little more than a hundredyards away. The woods were nowdarkening fast, and the chill of the dewwas in the air, which was heavy with thescent of redwood and cedar. In places thewater still glimmered faintly, and exceptfor the roar it made, everything was verystill.

Suddenly Harry pointed to the dog, whowas lying near Frank.

"Get hold of him," he said in a low voice.

"If nothing else will keep him quiet, we'llroll your jacket round his head."

Frank, who had taken off his jacket, whichwas badly torn, when he began fishing,laid his hand on the dog as it arose with alow growl. Then as it tried to break awayfrom him he seized its collar and held onwith all his might while Harry flung thejacket over it. Though the thing cost theman effort they managed to hold the animalstill between them. In the meanwhile therewas a crackle of undergrowth and Franksaw a man who walked in a rather curiousmanner move out from the shadow. Evenwhen he was clear of the overhangingbranches it was impossible to see himdistinctly, but Frank recognized him with astart. There was something wrong with

one of the dark figure's shoulders.

The man moved on away from them, untilhe stopped at the edge of the overhangingrock, where he stood for a moment or two.Then he leaped out suddenly and alightedon the top of a boulder about which thewhite froth whirled. Frank fancied thatonly a very powerful person could havesafely made such a leap, and there was nodoubt that whatever it was that had causedthe man's unusual gait, it had not affectedhis agility. The next moment, he jumpedagain, and, coming down rather more thanknee-deep in the rapid, floundered throughit and vanished into the shadow beneaththe trees. Then Harry looked around at hiscompanion with a smile.

"I'll own up that Barclay's smart, after

all," he said. "He's sure on the trail.Anyway, perhaps we'd better head back tocamp in case some more of them comealong."

It was quite dark when they reached thefire the Siwash had made and found Mr.Barclay, who now seemed rather wet aswell as ragged, sitting beside it with hispipe in his hand. When they had comparedtheir fish with those he had killed they laydown among the withered needles on theopposite side of the fire.

"It's good fishing, sir, but you must be verykeen to come so far for it," said Harry,looking up innocently at Mr. Barclay.

The red light of the fire was on Mr.Barclay's face and Frank saw that he

glanced thoughtfully at Harry.

"It certainly is," he answered. "I believeyou have already said something verymuch like your last remark. Still, you see,I don't propose to come often."

Frank suppressed a chuckle. If Harry hadintended to surprise the man into someadmission he had not succeeded yet.

"And we go on to the rancherie in acouple of days," Harry added. "From whatthe Indians told me I don't think we'd getany fishing there. Wouldn't it be better tostay here a little longer?"

"No," said Mr. Barclay, "quite apart fromthe difficulty of sending your father word,what you suggest doesn't strike me as

advisable, for one or two reasons."

Harry seemed to realize that he wasmaking no progress, and, lookingmeaningly at Frank, suddenly changed histactics.

"There's something I should perhaps havetold you, sir, though I don't know whetherit will interest you. Anyway, not long agoFrank and I were up at the Chinese colonybehind the settlement near our ranch.Perhaps you have been there?"

"I've heard of it," said Barclay dryly.

Then in a few words Harry described howthe man they had endeavored to trail hadvanished at the Chinaman's shack, andFrank saw a look of eager interest cross

Mr. Barclay's usually stolid face.

"You suggest that the fellow didn't wantyou to see him?" he asked.

"That was certainly how it struck me."

"And he walked rather curiously and oneshoulder seemed a little higher than theother? I think you mentioned that?"

"I did," repeated Harry.

Mr. Barclay seemed to reflect, but therewas now sign of deeper interest in hisexpression.

"Did you notice whether he had red hairand gray eyes?"

"No," said Harry with a grin, "though I

can't be sure about it, I've a notion that hishair was dark. As it happened, I only sawhis back, but I'd know the man again." Hepaused impressively. "In fact, I hadn't theleast trouble about it when I saw him halfan hour ago."

Mr. Barclay started and there was nodoubt that he was astonished at this.

"You ran up against him here!"

"No," said Harry, "I only watched himfrom behind a fir. He crossed the creekheading south and didn't notice us."

Mr. Barclay settled back again andseemed lost in thought. "After all," he saidshortly, "it's possible."

Then he changed the subject and they

talked about fishing until the fire dieddown, when they spread their blanketsupon their couches of soft spruce twigs.

CHAPTER XIIITHE SCHOONER

REAPPEARS

It was early in the evening when after atoilsome march Mr. Barclay and the boysreached a Siwash rancherie built justabove high-water mark on the pebblybeach of a sheltered inlet. Frank hadalready discovered that the northern partof the Pacific Slope is a land of majesticbeauty, but he had so far seen nothingquite so wild and rugged as thesurroundings of the Indian dwelling.Behind it, a great rock fell almost sheer,

leaving only room for a breadth of shinglebetween its feet and the strip of cleargreen water. On the opposite side mightyfirs climbed the face of a towering hill sosteep that Frank wondered how they clungto it, and at the head of the tremendouschasm a crystal stream came splashing outof eternal shadow. Seaward a wet reefguarded the inlet's mouth, with its outeredge hidden by spouts of snowy foam,upon which the big Pacific rollers brokecontinually, ranging up in tall green wallsand crumbling upon the stony barrier witha deep vibratory roar which rang in longpulsations across the stately pines.

The rancherie was a long and ratherramshackle, single-storied, woodenbuilding not unlike a frame barn, only

lower, and Frank discovered that althoughit was inhabited by the whole Siwashcolony there were no divisions in it, buteach inmate or family claimed its allottedspace upon the floor. A tall pole rudelycarved with grotesque figures stood infront of it, and it occurred to Frank as heinspected them that he was face to facewith the rudiments of heraldry. The noblesof ancient Europe, he remembered,blazoned devices of this kind upon theirshields, and their descendants still paintedtheir lions and griffins and eagles upontheir carriages and stamped them upontheir note paper. He was probably right inhis surmises, though there are differentviews upon the subject of totem poles, andthe Siwash, who ought to know most aboutthem, seem singularly unwilling to supply

inquirers with any reliable information.

A group of brown-faced, black-hairedmen and women dressed much as whitefolks stood about the rancherie, and nearthem were ranged rows of shallow traysof bark containing drying berries. Franknoticed that the woods were full of thelatter—hat berries, salmon berries, andsplendid black and yellow raspberries.Several big sea canoes were drawn up atthe edge of the water, and Mr. Oliver satnear one of them with another cluster ofSiwash gathered about him. They hadspread a number of peltries out upon thestones, which Mr. Oliver explained wereseal skins. Frank examined one, and foundit difficult to believe that this coarse,greasy, and nastily smelling hair was the

material out of which the beautiful glossyfurs were made. He confided his views toHarry.

"Yes," said the latter, "they're not much tolook at now. They have to go through quitea lot of dressing, and I've heard that in thefirst place all the long outside hair isplucked out. There's an inner coat." Helooked at the men. "It's done in England,isn't it?"

Mr. Barclay smiled. "A good deal of it is,anyway." Then he addressed Mr. Oliver."You're buying some of these peltries?"

"One or two," was the answer. "We wantan excuse for this visit."

Mr. Barclay made a sign of assent, and

after chaffering with the Indians for a fewmoments Mr. Oliver broke in again:"They're cheap, that's sure. I suppose thesefellows would rather sell them on the spotfor dollars down than pack them alongdown to Alberni or some other placewhere they'd probably have to takegrocery stores in payment. If you're opento make a deal we'll take two or threebetween us. We ought to get our moneyback with something over in Victoria."

Mr. Oliver kept up the bargaining for awhile, and then explained that he and hiscompanion did not care for the rest of theskins, which were inferior to those theyhad chosen. One of the Siwash thereuponinformed him that more canoes wereexpected in a day or two, adding that he

would probably be able to show themfurther peltries if they could wait theirarrival.

"Tell him we'll stay," said Mr. Barclay."At the same time you had better ask himif there's any likelihood of our gettingdown to Victoria by water. You can saywe've had about enough crawling throughthe bush—it's a fact that I have—and leadup to the question naturally."

Frank, observing a twinkle in Harry'seyes, watched the Indians' faces when Mr.Oliver addressed them, but they remainedperfectly expressionless.

"I can't get anything out of them about theschooner," Mr. Oliver reported at length."This fellow says the easiest way would

be to send our Indians back for the canoe,which I'll do. It's possible that we maychance upon a little more information lateron."

"Where do they get the skins?" Frankasked presently, when the Indians had leftthem.

"That's a point they don't seem muchinclined to talk about," Mr. Barclayanswered. "They probably follow them intheir canoes as they work up north, thoughit's only odd seals they pick up in thatway. The principal supply comes from thePribyloff Islands up in the Bering Sea. It'ssupposed that with the exception of a fewwhich frequent some reefs lying nearerRussian Asia practically all the seals inthe North Pacific haul out there for two or

three months every year. The Americanlessees club them on the land, but thecrews of the Canadian schooners kill anumber in open water outside our limit.They claim that although the seals are bornon American beaches we don't own themwhen they're in the sea, but, as it'ssuggested that they're not always veryparticular about their exact distance fromthe islands, their proceedings maketrouble every now and then. I'm talkingabout the fur seals; there are several otherkinds which are more or less commoneverywhere."

He broke off and sat smoking silently for awhile, looking at the skins.

"They seem to have taken your fancy," Mr.Oliver observed presently.

"It's a fact," Mr. Barclay assented. "I wasjust thinking I'd like to take that big oneand the other yonder home with me. Mydaughter Minnie visits East in the winternow and then, and she's fond of furs,though so far I haven't been able to buy herany particularly smart ones. There's a manI know in Portland who can fix up a skinas well as any one in London. He was agood many years in Alaska trading furs forthe A. C. C., and some of the Russianswho stayed behind there taught him todress them."

Mr. Oliver laughed. "I suppose the thing isquite out of the question?"

"It is," said Mr. Barclay dryly. "You oughtto know that the United States charges abig duty on foreign furs."

"On foreign ones!" broke in Harry,nudging Frank. "A seal born on anAmerican beach could certainly beconsidered an American seal."

"When you import goods into the UnitedStates you require a certificate of origin,young man."

"That fixes the thing," said Harry. "Onyour own showing, those seals originatedon the Pribyloffs. They're American."

"Ingenious!" exclaimed Mr. Barclay, witha longing glance at the skins. "There'ssome reason in that contention, but won'tyou go on? You don't seem to have gotthrough yet."

"In case you felt justified in taking a skin

or two," continued Harry thoughtfully, "I'dlike to point out that, as a rule, theCustoms fellows don't trouble about asloop the size of ours. We just run up toour moorings when we come back from ayachting trip, and there's a nice little nookforward which would just hold a bundleof those peltries. It's hidden beneath thesecond cable."

Mr. Barclay picked up a piece of shingleand flung it at him.

"You can stop right now before you getyourself into difficulties. What do youmean by proposing a smuggling deal to aman connected with the United Statesrevenue?"

"I'm sorry," Harry answered with a

chuckle. "I should have waited until therest had gone."

Mr. Barclay regarded him severely,though his eyes twinkled.

"Your smartness is going to make troublefor you by and by," he said. "Go and seewhat that Siwash is doing about oursupper."

Harry moved away, but presently cameback to announce that the meal was ready.When it was over the boys strolled offtoward the reef, leaving the men sittingsmoking on the beach.

"That boy of yours told me what seemed arather curious thing last night," said Mr.Barclay, and he briefly ran over what

Harry had related about the man with thepeculiar shoulder.

Mr. Oliver listened in evidentastonishment.

"It's the first time I've heard of the matter,"he exclaimed. "What do you make of it?"

"In the meanwhile I don't quite know whatto think. If that man is boss of the gang itexplains a good deal that has beenpuzzling me, but I must own it'sconsiderably more than I expected. Thegeneral idea was that he'd cleared out ofthe country, which would have been avery natural course in view of the fact thathe'd probably have been sandbagged ifhe'd show himself after dark on any wharfof two of the coast states. Anyway, your

son's description was quite straight. Heseemed sure of him."

"Harry's eyes are as good as yours ormine," said Mr. Oliver with a smile. Mr.Barclay wrinkled his brow.

"There's a point that struck me—though Ican't say if it explains the thing. The boy'sonly young yet, he has imagination and, it'spossible, a fondness for detectiveliterature, like the rest of them. Now we'llassume that he had heard of a certainsensational case—a particularlygrewsome crime on board an Americanship—and the arrest of the rascal accusedof it. I needn't point out that the fellowonly escaped on a technical point of lawand that his picture figured in some of thepapers. Isn't that the kind of thing that's

likely to make a marked impression on theyouthful mind?"

"I can see two objections," responded Mr.Oliver. "In the first place, Harry wasaway in Idaho while the case was goingon. The second one's more important.Harry might try to put the laugh on you, ashe did not long ago, but when he makes aconcise statement it's to be relied upon. Insuch a case I've never known him to let hisimagination run away with him."

Mr. Barclay spread his hands out in adeprecatory manner.

"Then we'll take the thing for granted, andit certainly simplifies the affair. I'd notrouble in finding the Chinese colony, andthough I've no idea how they get the dope,

that doesn't matter. The point is that it'svery seldom anybody is likely to disturbthem in this part of the bush, and there aretwo inlets handy. A schooner could slip inhere a dozen times without being noticedby anybody except the Siwash. Then wehave the fact that a notorious rascal whohas evidently a hand in the thing was seenheading for the Chinese colony. It seemsto me decisive."

"What are you going to do about it?" Mr.Oliver asked.

"Wait and keep my eyes open. If itappears advisable I may communicatewith the Canadian authorities later on,though, of course, we must contrive to getour hands on the fellows in Americanwaters. I've an idea it can be done."

Mr. Oliver said nothing further, and byand by, when a thin haze rolled down fromthe hillside and night closed in, theystrolled toward the rancherie, where theywere given a strip of floor space not farfrom the entrance. The boys came in alittle later and lay down apart from themand nearer the door, but Frank did not goto sleep. The rancherie was hot and thedull roar of the combers on the reef camethrobbing in and made him restless. He laystill for what seemed a considerable time,and at last there was a low sound whichmight have been made by somebody risingstealthily, after which a dim black objectflitted out of the door. Then Harry, wholay close to him, touched his arm.

"Are you asleep?" he asked very softly.

"No," answered Frank. "Where's thatfellow going?"

"Get out as quietly as you can," wasHarry's reply.

Frank had kept his shirt and trousers on,and after feeling for his boots he arosecautiously, holding them in his hand. Inanother moment or two he had slipped outinto the cool night air and was crossingthe shingle in his stockinged feet. Once ortwice a stone rattled, but he supposed thesound was lost in the clamor of the reef,for nobody seemed to hear it. When theyhad left the rancherie some distancebehind they sat down.

"Now," said Harry, "I'll tell you my idea.They're expecting the schooner and don't

want her to run in while we're about.They've probably had a man on thelookout down by the entrance, and I expectthe fellow who went out has been sent bythe boss or Tyee to learn if the other onehas seen her."

"It's curious some of them didn't hear us,"Frank observed thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure that they didn't," Harryadmitted. "Anyway, they couldn't stop uswithout some excuse, and, if I'm right, theycertainly wouldn't want to tell us why theywished us to stay in. Of course," he added,"it might make them suspicious, but I don'tknow any reason why we should point thatout to Barclay. The great thing is to keepout of sight in case they follow us."

They put on their boots and crept along inthe gloom beneath the rock, headingtoward the reefs. A little breeze blewdown the hollow, setting the dark firs tosighing, and part of the inlet lay black intheir shadow. The rest sparkled in thelight of a half-moon which had just risenabove the crest of the hill. They couldhear the soft splash and tinkle of waterrippling among the stones, but now andthen this sound was drowned as the roarof the reef grew louder and deeper.Presently a dim, filmy whiteness in frontof them resolved itself into a glimmeringspray cloud and fountains of spoutingfoam, and when at length they stoppedamong a cluster of wet boulders theycould see a black ridge of rock thrustingitself out, half buried, into a mad turmoil

of frothing water. It lay in the shadow ofthe rock, and there was no moonlight onthe ghostly combers which came seethingdown upon it. A little outshore, however,the sea sparkled with a silvery radianceexcept where the shadow of a black headfell upon it. There was not more than amoderate breeze, but the Pacific surgebreaks upon and roars about those reefscontinually.

A little thrill ran through Frank as heleaned upon one of the wet boulders. Itwas the first time he had trodden a Pacificbeach, and he realized that he had nowreached the outermost verge of the West.He could go no farther. The ocean barredhis progress, and beyond it lay differentlands, whose dark-skinned peoples spoke

in other tongues. The white man'scivilization stopped short where he stood.Then as he watched the ceaselessshoreward rush of the big combers andlooked up at black rock and climbingpines, a strange delight in the new life heled crept into his heart. Dusky shadow andsilvery moonlight seemed filled withglamour, and he was learning to love thewilderness as he could never have lovedthe cities. Besides, he was there to watchfor the mysterious schooner, and that alonewas sufficient to stir him and put a tensionon his nerves. It was more than possiblethat there were other watchers hiddensomewhere in the gloom.

He did not know how long they waited,with the salt spray stinging their faces and

the diapason of the surf in their ears, but atlast she came, breaking upon his sightsuddenly and strangely, as he felt it wasmost fitting that she should do. Her blackheadsails swept out of the shadow of theneighboring head, the tall boom-foresailfollowed, and a second later he saw thegreater spread of her after canvas. Shedrove on, growing larger, into a strip ofmoonlight, when, for the wind was off theshore, he saw her hull hove up on the sidetoward him, with the water flashingbeneath it and frothing white at her bows.

"She's close-hauled," said Harry. "They'llstretch across to the other side and thenput the helm down and let her reach in. It'sa mighty awkward place to make when thewind's blowing out."

She plunged once more into the shadow,but Frank could still see her more or lessplainly—a tall, slanted mass of canvasflitting swiftly through the dusky bluenessof the night. She edged close in with thereef, still carrying everything except hermain gaff-topsail, and then as herheadsails swept across the entrance thesplash of a paddle reached the boys faintlythrough the clamor of the surf and theyheard a hoarse shout.

"There's a canoe yonder," announcedHarry. "The Siwash in her is hailing them.They've heard him. Her peak's comingdown."

A clatter of blocks broke out and theupper half of the tall mainsail suddenlycollapsed. Then the schooner's bows

swung around a little until they pointed tothe seething froth upon the opposite beach.

"What are they doing?" Frank asked."She's going straight ashore."

Harry laughed excitedly. "No," he said,"that Siwash has told them to clear outagain, and it will want smart work to gether round in this narrow water. They'vedropped the mainsail peak because shewouldn't fall off fast enough."

Frank watched her eagerly for the nextmoment or two. Her bows were swingingaround, but they were swinging slowly,and the beach with the white surf upon itseemed ominously close ahead. He sawtwo black figures go scrambling forwardand haul the staysail to windward, but she

was still forging across the inlet. Then herbows fell off a little farther, the trailinggaff swung out with a bang, and Frank sawthe masts fall into line with him and a bentfigure behind the deckhouse strugglingwith the wheel. In another moment hermainsail came over with a crash and shewas flitting out to sea again.

"Now," cried Harry, "back up the beachfor your life! We're going in swimming!"

"You can do what you like," gruntedFrank. "I'm heading straight for therancherie."

"After the swim," urged Harry. "Get amove on and loose your things as you run.I'll explain later."

He ran on, flinging off his clothes, andplunged into the water when they drewnear the rancherie. In another moment ortwo Frank waded in after him and wasglad he had done so when he heard thesoft splash of a canoe paddle somewherein the gloom. He fancied that the Siwashwould see them, which, as he realized,was what Harry had desired. They weresome distance from the mouth of the inletand he did not think the schooner wouldhave been visible from the spot, which ledhim to believe that if the Indians hadnoticed their absence their presentoccupation might serve as an excuse for it.

He did not see the canoe reach the beach,but in two or three minutes Harrysuggested that they might as well go out,

and putting on some of their clothes theymade for the rancherie. Creeping into itsoftly, they lay down and soon afterwardwent to sleep.

CHAPTER XIVA TEST OF ENDURANCE

The boys were sitting on the beach nextmorning after breakfast when Mr. Oliverlooked across at Harry, who had not yetsaid anything about their adventures.

"What were you two doing last night?" heasked casually.

Harry started. "Then you heard us?"

"I did," said his father. "You were out ofthe door before I quite realized what wasgoing on, and it didn't seem altogether

wise to commence talking when you cameback, but that's not the point. You haven'tanswered my question."

"We went in swimming," Harry informedhim with a grin.

"Considering that most people wouldprefer to swim in daylight, I wonder if youhad any particular reason for choosing themiddle of the night?" mused Mr. Oliverthoughtfully.

"Why, yes," was Harry's answer. "I've anotion it was rather a good one. I wantedthe Siwash to see us in the water, becauseit would explain the thing. There were atleast two of them about the beach, thoughonly one left the rancherie after we cameinto it."

"Then the fellow must have gone out agood deal more quietly than you did,because I didn't hear him. I suppose youfelt you had to get after him and see whathe was doing?"

Mr. Barclay smiled and waved his hand.

"Sure," he broke in. "The temptationwould be irresistible. What else wouldyou expect from two enterprisingyoungsters like these, who have no doubtbeen studying detective literature and theexploits of other young men in the braveold jayhawking days?"

A flush crept into Harry's face, but heanswered quietly:

"Well, it's perhaps as well we went,

because I can tell you what the Siwashwere watching for. We saw the schooner."

Mr. Barclay gave a sudden start and cast asignificant glance at Mr. Oliver.

"The dramatic climax! There's no doubtyou have sprung it upon us smartly, butnow you have worked it off you can goahead with the tale."

Harry told him what they had seen andwhen he had finished Mr. Barclay seemedto be considering the matter ponderously.Then he turned to Mr. Oliver.

"It seems to me there's nothing more tokeep us here."

"No," said the rancher. "On the other hand,it might, perhaps, be better if we waited

until those canoes arrive—if it's only forthe look of the thing."

His companion made a sign of agreementand neither one said anything further onthe subject. The boys lounged about thebeach and gathered delicious berries inthe woods most of the day, and on thefollowing day two more canoes ran in.Their crews had, however, traded off theirpeltries somewhere else, and shortly aftertheir arrival Mr. Oliver and his party leftthe inlet in the canoe which he had sent theIndians back to bring. The weather hadchanged in the night, and when theypaddled down the strip of sheltered watertheir ears were filled with the clamor ofthe surf, and the hillsides were lost in thindrizzle and sliding mist. A filmy spray

cloud hung about the entrance, and beyondit big, gray combers tipped with frothcame rolling up in long succession. Thesight of them affected Frank disagreeably,and he was not astonished when Mr.Oliver, who spoke to one of the Indians,suggested that he and Harry had betterhelp with the spare paddles until theywere far enough off shore to get the mastsup.

Frank found it hard enough work, for thesea was almost ahead and the canoelurched viciously, pitching her bows out.The crag beyond the inlet, however, stillslightly sheltered them, and straining at thepaddle with the rain in their faces theymade shift to drive her over the big, gray-sided ridges, though every now and then

the frothing top of one came splashing in.At length one of the Siwash lifted the shortmast forward into its place, and thrustingin the sprit, shook loose the sail. Hiscompanion, who knelt aft gripping a long-bladed paddle, seized the sheet, and thecraft, gathering speed, headed out towardthe point to lee of them. When she hadcleared it the Siwash raised a second mastfarther aft, and setting the sail upon it,slacked both sheets, after which the canoedrove away at what seemed to Frank anastonishing pace. As a matter of fact, shewas traveling very fast, for a narrow,shallow-bodied craft of that kind is veryspeedy so long as the wind is more or lessbehind her.

Sitting with his back against her hove-up

weather side he noticed rather uneasilythat the opposite one was almost levelwith the brine. Then he glanced astern atthe combers that followed them, and wasby no means comforted by the sight. Theywere unlike the short, tumbling waves hehad seen already in land-locked water, forthey were larger and longer, and swept upwith a kind of stately swing until theybroke into seething foam. Their rise andfall seemed measured, and they rolled onin their ceaseless march in well-orderedranks. It struck him that the canoe wascarrying a dangerous press of sail, butnobody else appeared disturbed, and headmitted that the Indians probably knewhow much it was safe to spread.

"Isn't she making a great pace?" he asked

of Mr. Oliver, who sat nearest him.

"Yes," was the answer, "I've made two orthree trips in these canoes, but I never sawone driven quite so hard. These fellowsare probably afraid the breeze willfreshen up, and want to get as far aspossible before it does."

They ran on for a couple of hours, seeingnothing but the ranks of tumbling combers,except at intervals when the haze thinned alittle and they made out a shadowy masswhich might have been high and rockyland over the port side. In the meanwhilethe seas were steadily getting bigger, anda good deal of water came in at irregularintervals. By and by, the boys were keptbusy bailing it out, and the Indian whowas not steering held the sheet of the

larger sail.

At length, when the tops of two or threeseas splashed in over the foam-washedstern in quick succession, the helmsmanraised his hand and there was a wildthrashing as his companion loosened theafter-sheet. Rolling the sail together heflung the mast down, and the canoe ran onwith only the forward one set, whichseemed to Frank quite sufficient. The seawas on her quarter, and each comber thatcame up boiled about her in a great surgeof foam, and heaved her up before it lefther to sink dizzily into the hollow. Eachtime she did so Frank was conscious of acurious and unpleasant feeling in hisinterior.

He had, however, no difficulty in eating

his share of the crackers and cannedprovisions Mr. Oliver presently handedaround, and after that he was kept too busybailing to notice anything until late in theafternoon when he heard the two Indiansmuttering to one another. The result of thediscussion was that one of them pulled thesprit out, and folding down the peak leftonly a small three-cornered strip of sail.Frank understood the cause for this whenhe glanced at the seas, which lookedalarmingly big. It was disconcerting torealize that they could take no more sailoff the canoe unless they lowered the mastaltogether, and where the beach was hecould not tell. He had seen no sign of it forthe last two hours, and it was now rainingviciously hard.

Nobody seemed inclined to talk, and therewas only the roar and splash of thecombers behind them as they drove wildlyon, until when dusk was close at hand thedim shadow of a hill rose up suddenly onone side of them. Then the Indian hauledthe sheet, and presently when the waterbecame smoother, called to hiscompanion, who thrust the sprit up again.After that the canoe put her lee side inevery now and then, but very soon a foam-fringed point stretched out ahead. Theyswept around it, and after skirting a half-seen, rocky beach ran with spritsailthrashing into a little basin down to whichthere crept rows of mist-wrapped trees.

Frank was thankful to get out when thehelmsman ran her ashore, and the work of

assisting the Indians to chop branches andmake a fire put a little warmth into him.They made supper when darkness closeddown, and afterward the Indians erected arude branch-and-bark shelter, while thewhite men and the boys huddled togetherin the tent. It was better than sitting in thefoam-swept canoe, but Frank longed forthe sloop's low-roofed cabin.

He went to sleep, however, wet as hewas, and after an early breakfast nextmorning they started again, with bothspritsails up in torrential rain. The waterwas comparatively smooth, though thedoleful moaning of the firs fell from thehalf-seen hills, and Mr. Oliver announcedthat the entrance to the canal they hadcome down was not far away. Frank had

learned that on the Pacific Slope canalgenerally means a natural arm of the sea.

They reached its entrance presently,sailing close-hauled, and on stretchingacross it the canoe plunged viciously on ashort, white-topped sea. The wind wasblowing straight down the deep rift in thehills, and Frank remembered with regretthat Alberni stood a long way up at thehead of the inlet. They came back on theother tack, making almost nothing, and theSiwash pulled the masts down before oneof them spoke to Mr. Oliver.

"I suppose they can't get the canoe towindward?" suggested Mr. Barclay.

"He says we'll have to paddle," Mr.Oliver answered. "There seem to be four

paddles in her and that will leave two ofus to relieve the rest in turn."

Harry and Frank took the first spell withthe Indians, and they had had enough of itbefore an hour had passed. The wind wasdead ahead of them, and though they creptin close with the beach they were met bylittle, spiteful seas. It was necessary tofight for every fathom, thrashing herslowly ahead by sheer force of muscle.Frank's hands were soon sore and oneknee raw from pressing it against thecraft's bottom. He got hot and breathless,the rain was in his face, and his sidebegan to ache, and it was a vast relief tohim when Mr. Oliver finally took hisplace.

The mists were thinning when he sat down

limply in the bottom of the craft, and greatrocky hills and dusky firs crawled slowlyby, except when now and then a fiercergust swept down, whitening all the inlet,and they barely held their own bydesperate paddling. Then as it dropped alittle they forged ahead again. It wasdreary as well as very arduous work, butthere was no avoiding it, for theirprovisions were almost gone and therewas no trail of any kind through the bush.Frank felt that even paddling into a stronghead wind was better than smashingthrough continuous thorny brakes andfloundering over great fallen logs.

One hand commenced to bleed when henext took his turn, but that was, as herealized, not a matter of much importance.

They had to reach Alberni sometime nextday, and his chief concern was how itcould be done. Then the pain in his sideset in again and became rapidly worse,and he set his lips tight as he swunggasping with each stroke of the splashingblade. They won a foot or so each time thepaddles came down, and it was somewhatconsoling to recognize it. He felt that if hehad been called upon to do this kind ofthing after sleeping wet through upon theground when he first came out he wouldhave immediately collapsed, but he wassteadily acquiring the power to disregardbodily fatigue.

There was no change as the day slippedby. It rained pitilessly, and the windcontinually headed them as they labored

on wearily with set, wet faces andstraining muscles. The stroke must notslacken, for the moment it grew feebler thecanoe would drive astern. They kept it upuntil nightfall, and then beaching the canoelay down once more in the tent, whichstrained in the wind. They were aching allover when they rose next morning, and thework was still the same, but they reachedAlberni, worn out, early in the evening. Itwas a very small place then, though itafterward sprang up into a mining town.Two or three ranch houses stood in theirclearings beside a crystal river, and a fewmore buildings clustered at the head of theinlet half hidden in the bush. There was astore and a frame hotel among them, andMr. Oliver, who took up quarters in thelatter, told the boys that the stage would

start on the following morning. TheIndians were given shelter in one of theoutbuildings, and the hotelkeeper insistedon locking up the dog, who growled ateverybody about the place.

"I'm not scared of dogs," he explained,"but that one of yours won't let me getabout my own house. Besides, I guess he'deat some of those Chinamen beforemorning if you leave him loose."

They were standing near a window, andMr. Oliver glanced at one or two blue-clad figures lounging under the drippingtrees.

"You seem to have a number of themabout," he remarked. "I saw another lot asI came in. What are they doing here?"

"Stopping for the night," was the answer."They're camping in a barn of mine andgoing on to the gold creek at sun-up,though they may start earlier if the rainstops. Quite a few of them have come inover the trail lately."

"Then there must be a regular colony inthe bush," broke in Mr. Barclay, who hadstrolled up.

"No," replied the hotelkeeper, "that's thecurious thing. They keep on coming in bythrees and fours, but Blake from the ranchhigher up the river was through that waynot long ago, and he said he didn't seemany of them yonder. About two dozen, hefigured, but more than that have comethrough here to my certain knowledge."

"It looks as if the gold-washing didn't payand the rest had gone on somewhere," Mr.Barclay suggested carelessly.

The hotelkeeper looked bewildered."Well," he said, "this is the only trail tothe settlements, and they certainly haven'tcome back this way. It's mighty roughtraveling through the bush, as you ought toknow."

Mr. Barclay smiled ruefully as he glanceddown at his torn clothing and badlydamaged boots. "That's a sure thing.Besides, they'd have their truck to packalong, which would make it more difficult.Those fellows generally bring a lot ofodds and ends with them."

"Oh, yes," assented the hotelkeeper. "Most

of them have their slung baskets on poles.Anyway, I've no fault to find with them.They make no trouble."

He walked off, and when Mr. Barclay andMr. Oliver went out, Harry gave atriumphant glance at Frank.

"Now," he said, "you see what our friendhas found out without giving himselfaway. The question is, where do thoseChinamen who don't stay with the gold-washing get to?"

Frank laughed. "I expect Barclay couldgive you an answer. There's another thinghe could probably guess at, and that's whatthey've got in some of those slungbaskets."

Then they moved back toward the lightedstove, for the rain drove against the framewalls and it was damp and chilly in thebig bare room.

CHAPTER XVA MIDNIGHT VISITOR

It was getting dark when the boys retiredto their room, in which two beds werestanding at opposite corners. Harry chosethe one nearest the door, and they left thewindow open. The room was, as usual insuch places, very scantily furnished, but itappeared very comfortable after theircamps in the dripping bush, and Frankfound it a luxury to get his clothes off andlie down upon a comparatively softmattress.

A draught blew in at intervals through the

window, and the door, which would notshut, swung to and fro. It was raining ashard as ever, for Frank could hear amuffled roar upon the shingled roof, andthe pines outside were wailing dolefully.He soon went to sleep, however, but wasawakened later by the sound of voices anda soft patter of feet below. The rainseemed to have stopped at last, though hecould hear a heavy splashing from thebranches of the firs close by, and hefancied that the Chinamen must be starting.There was, however, no sign of morningwhen he glanced toward the window,which showed only as a faintly lightersquare in the surrounding obscurity. Infact, it seemed unusually dark, whichstruck him as curious, since there was amoon, but the hotel stood in a valley

shrouded by giant trees and he supposedthat the sky was thick with cloud.

He heard the voices grow fainter and thefootsteps gradually recede until they werelost in the moaning of the pines, and he feltthat he did not envy the Chinamen theirjourney. He wondered why they had notwaited until sunrise before starting, andthen remembered that a rancher he had methad told him that a trail led out of thesettlement for some distance. He supposedit would be light before the Chinamenshould reach the end of it and plunge intothe forest. About a quarter of an hour hadslipped away when, lying half asleep, hethought that he heard some one in theroom. He could see nothing but thewindow, and could hear little else than the

sound of the wind among the trees, butraising himself very cautiously on oneelbow he distinctly heard a faint soundthat suggested a stealthy movement. Thisseemed very curious, for he felt almostcertain that if his companion had had anyidea of trying to find out something aboutthe Chinamen he would have told him,besides which, the Chinamen had gone.

While he lay still listening with tinglingnerves there was a soft scraping andpresently a very pale blue flame brokeout, showing a shadowy figure in a looserobe bending over Harry's bed with a lightin its hand. Frank did not pause toconsider what the stranger's intentionsmight be, but reached for his boot, whichwas a heavy one, and flung it with all his

might at the shadowy object's head. Itstruck the boarded wall with a startlingcrash, the light suddenly went out, and hesprang from his bed in the darkness with acry of "Harry!"

"Well," said his companion drowsily,"what's the matter?"

"Where's the Chinaman?" shouted Frank,darting toward the door.

He ran out into a passage with Harryblundering half awake behind him, andnoticed that there was an open windownear the door which had been shut whenhe had last seen it. On reaching it heespied what seemed to be the roof of alow outbuilding not far below, but therewas very little else to be seen except the

loom of the dusky pines which werebeginning to stand out against the sky.Then he heard a rush of pattering feet anda yelp on the stairway close by, and afurry body flung itself against his knee. Herecognized the dog, who almostimmediately darted into the room. It cameout again, sprang to the window ledge,and bounded to the roof beneath. He hearda soft thud on the shingles and a bark thatsounded farther off, and then for a momentor two there was silence again.

It was broken by the sound of a door flungopen, and Mr. Barclay came along thepassage very lightly dressed, with a lampin his hand. Telling them to follow, hewalked into the boys' room, and placedthe lamp on a bureau before he sat down

on the nearest bed.

"Now," he asked, "what's the cause of thiscommotion?"

"I don't know," said Harry. "PerhapsFrank can tell you. He seems to have beenthrowing his boots about."

Frank, a little nettled, narrated what hehad seen. Mr. Barclay smiled.

"You say the man was standing by Harry'sbed," he observed. "Did you notice if hehad a big knife in his hand?"

"He'd nothing but a match," Frankanswered shortly.

"Now that's curious," said Mr. Barclay."Do you suppose he meant to set the bed

on fire, or have you any idea what he wasdoing?"

Frank heard a slight sound and lookingaround saw Mr. Oliver standing in thedoorway, while just then a shout camedown the passage, apparently from thehotelkeeper.

"What's the trouble? Is there anythingwrong?"

"We're trying to find out," Mr. Barclayreplied. "It doesn't seem to be serious,anyway."

"Then I'll put a few clothes on before Icome along," said the voice, and a doorbanged.

"He seemed to be looking down at Harry's

face," said Frank, who saw that Mr.Barclay was waiting an answer.

Mr. Barclay now turned and favoredHarry with a critical gaze.

"I can't understand what the fellow wantedto do that for." Then he smiled back atFrank. "These are decadent days. Hewouldn't have got away with his scalp onif he'd come creeping into the room of theJames boys."

Harry flushed. "I suppose you mean to hintthat Frank imagined it all, sir? Well, hetold you the man struck a match, andthough sulphur matches don't give muchlight they make a considerable smell. Doyou notice any particular odor in thisroom?" Then he stooped suddenly and

picked up a half-burned match. "What doyou make of this? I haven't struck one."

Mr. Barclay examined the match with anabstracted expression, and while he did sothe dog pattered into the room wagging histail in a deprecatory manner, as if toexcuse himself for not overtaking theintruder. He jumped distractedly aroundthe boys for a moment and then croucheddown upon the floor with a short length ofbroken cord trailing from his collar. Mr.Oliver pointed to it with an amused smile.

"It seems to me the dog must haveimagined something of the same kind asFrank did," he observed.

By this time the hotelkeeper arrived andgazed on with astonishment while Mr.

Barclay briefly explained the cause of thecommotion.

"I've never heard anything like this sinceI've been in the place," he declared. "TheChinamen are out on the trail now. Bettersee if you have lost anything."

The couple of dollars that Frank hadbrought with him proved to be still in hispocket, and Harry fished out the dollarwhich belonged to him. His cheap watchwas safe beneath his pillow, and Frankdeclared that he had left his silver one atthe ranch. This appeared to make thematter more inexplicable to thehotelkeeper.

"If the fellow had gone off with something,I could have understood it," he said in a

puzzled way.

"It's most likely that Frank saw him almostimmediately after he came in," said Mr.Oliver. "As he pitched his boot at him, theman was probably startled and got outwithout wasting any time in looking round.Then the dog broke loose and went afterhim."

The hotelkeeper agreed with this andshortly afterward Mr. Oliver, telling theboys not to trouble themselves any furtherabout the matter, followed him out withMr. Barclay. They turned into the latter'sroom, where Mr. Oliver sat down.

"I imagine that Frank's notion is correct,"he said. "As Harry told you, he and Frankonce paid a visit to the Chinese camp near

our ranch where he saw the man with thehigh shoulder and followed him to a shackfrom which he disappeared. If theChinaman who crept into the roomchanced to have been about the campwhen the boys were there, it's quitepossible that he did wish to see Harry'sface."

"That," Mr. Barclay admitted, "is my ownopinion, though it seemed wiser not toimpress it on the boys. I don't suppose youwant them to get to making anyinvestigations on their own account?"

"No," rejoined Mr. Oliver. "On the otherhand, they've taken a certain part in thematter already. In fact, it might have beenbetter if I'd left them behind. The troubleis that if the Chinaman recognized Harry it

would probably give him some idea as towhy we made this visit."

Mr. Barclay nodded his head. "Yes," hesaid. "It's a pity, but, after all, I'm ratherglad I made this trip. It's going to proveworth while."

Nothing further was said on the subjectand silence settled down again on thehotel. There was bright sunshine when theparty started with the stage next morning,and after spending the night at a littlecolliery town they took the train south.Getting off at a small station they found thesloop safe in the cove where they had lefther. Mr. Barclay, however, went on withthe peltries to Victoria, which was not faraway, and there managed to dispose ofthem, after which he hired a horse and

rode back to the inlet. They set sail assoon as he arrived, and after two days oflight winds duly reached the cove near theranch.

A few months slipped by peacefully. Thesmugglers showed no sign of furtheractivity, and Mr. Oliver got his oat crop inundisturbed. One way or another he keptthe boys busy from morning until night, butat last when the maple leaves werebeginning to turn he told them to take theirrifles and go hunting, and they set off onemorning after breakfast.

It was a still, clear morning, and now thatthe fall was drawing on there was achange in the bush. Here and there a mapleleaf caught a ray of sunshine and burnedlike a crimson lamp, the fern was growing

yellow, and the undergrowth was splashedand spattered with flecks of varying color.Even the light in the openings seemeddifferent. It was at once softer and clearerthan the glare of summer, and the shadowsseemed thinner and bluer than they hadbeen. But there was no difference in thegreat black firs. They lifted their frettedspires high against the sky, as they haddone for centuries, and they would remainthe same until the white man's ax shouldsweep the wilderness away.

The boys were floundering waist-deep inwithered fern and tangled undergrowthwhen they heard a rustling and scurryingsomewhere near their feet, and Harry,breaking off a rotten branch from a fallenfir, hurled it into a neighboring thicket.

"A fool hen!" he shouted. "Jump round thisbush, and try to put it up."

Frank fell into the thicket in his haste, buthe still heard the scurrying in front of himwhen he scrambled to his feet. He kickeda clump of fern, and there was no doubtthat something rushed away fromunderneath it, after which he plungedthrough the brake with Harry some yardsaway on one side of him, but there wasnothing visible. They hunted the unseencreature for what he supposed was aboutten minutes with no better result. Then aplainly colored bird about the size of apigeon rose from almost under his feet andflew to a fir branch some twenty yardsaway, where it perched and looked downat its pursuers unconcernedly.

"It doesn't seem scared now," said Frankin astonishment.

"It isn't," Harry answered with a laugh."The thing feels quite safe once it's on abranch. I guess that's why it's called thefool hen, though its proper name is thewillow grouse. Walk up and try a shot at it—only you must cut its head off."

Frank crept up nearer with a cautionwhich was wholly unnecessary, for thebird did not seem to mind him in the leastwhen he stopped close beneath it andpitched his rifle to his shoulder, but as hegazed at it over the half-moon of therearsight it seemed to him that its neckwas exceedingly small. He could not keepthe forebead fixed on it, and bringing therifle down he rested before he tried it

again. Then he felt the butt thump hisshoulder and the barrel jerk, and a littlewisp of smoke drifted across his eyes andhung about the bushes. When it cleared,the grouse, to his astonishment, was sittingon the branch as calmly as ever.

"It likes it," said Harry. "Try again—onlyat its neck."

Trying again, Frank succeeded in inducingthe bird to move to a neighboring branch,after which he braced himself withdesperate determination for the thirdattempt. This time the jar upon hisshoulder was followed by a soft thud, andhe understood why he had been warned toshoot only at its neck when he picked uphis victim. The big .44 bullet had horriblyshattered it.

"Could you have shot its head off?" heasked after he had thrown it down indisgust.

"Why, yes," said Harry. "Anyway, I cangenerally manage it if the thing sits still.Most of the bush ranchers could do itevery time."

He made this good presently when theyfound another bird, for it dropped at hisfirst shot without its head. Half an hourlater they saw a blue grouse perchedrather high up in a cedar.

"This fellow won't sit to be fired at,"Harry explained. "Better try it kneelingwhere you are, if you can get the foresightup enough."

Frank knelt with his right foot tuckedunder him and his left elbow on his knee.It steadied the rifle considerably, but hehad to cramp himself a little to raise themuzzle. Holding his breath he squeezedthe trigger when a part of the bird filled upthe curve of the rearsight, but he wasmildly astonished when Harry walkedtoward him with the grouse in his hand.

"I guess this one could be cooked," hesaid dubiously. "We'll take it along."

Frank surveyed his victim with a thrill ofpride. It was larger than the willowgrouse. In fact, it seemed to him aremarkably big and handsome bird in spiteof the hole in it, and he thrust it into theflour bag on his back with unalloyedsatisfaction.

"Is this the thing that makes the drummingin the spring?" he asked.

Harry said that it was, and they scrambledthrough the bush for a couple of hourswithout seeing anything further, until theyapproached a swampy hollow with asteep hillside over which the undergrowthhung unusually thick.

"There ought to be a black bear yonder;they like the wild cabbage," said Harry."We'll try to crawl in. It's a pity there isn'ta little wind ahead of us."

They spent half an hour over theoperation, and Frank realized that trailinghad its drawbacks when he found that itentailed burrowing among thorny thicketsand crawling across quaggy places on his

hands and knees. In spite of his cautionsticks would snap and it seemed to hisstrung-up imagination that he was makinga prodigious noise. At last, however, therewas another sound some distance in frontof him which suddenly became louder.

"A bear, sure," cried Harry excitedly."Going off up hill. Shoot if you can see it."

Frank gazed intently ahead, but could seeabsolutely nothing, though he could hear asmashing and crashing which presentlydied away again on the slope. Then Harrybrought down his rifle and turned away.

"You can generally hear a black bear," hesaid. "He goes straight and rips rightthrough the things a deer would jump. He'sa kind of harmless beast, anyway."

"Could we find a deer?" Frank asked, hishopes still high.

"We'll try when we've had dinner,"replied his companion. "I haven't seen anylately, though that doesn't count for much,because it would be possible not to noticeone if the woods were full of them. Still,they seem to have a way of clearing rightout of the country every now and then forno particular reason. The bear and thetimber wolves do the same thing."

They ate their dinner sitting among theroots of a big cedar, while a gorgeousgreen and red woodpecker climbed abouta neighboring trunk. Then Harry stood upand shouldered his rifle.

"After this we'll leave the birds alone," he

announced. "You don't want to make anoise when you're trailing deer."

CHAPTER XVIFRANK KILLS A DEER

They plodded through the bush for an houror two without seeing any living thingexcept a few pigeons, and Harry began tolook doubtful.

"If it was early morning, I'd try one of therock outcrops where nothing grows," heobserved. "The deer get up on to thoseplaces out of the dew then. As it'safternoon, I don't know which way tohead."

Frank glanced at his clothes. Keen as he

was on hunting, he would not have beensorry to head for home, for his ducktrousers were badly torn and one of hisboots which had been rather the worse forwear when he started was almostdropping off his foot. They trudged on,however, and accident favored them, as itoften does when one is hunting, for at lastwhen they were in very thick bush Harrydropped suddenly behind a patch ofwithered fern.

"Look there!" he said softly. "Right aheadof you yonder."

Frank gazed ahead with straining eyes, buthe could only see the great trunksstretching back in serried ranks. He hadheard somewhat to his astonishment that itis not often that a novice can see a deer in

the bush even when it is pointed out tohim, but now, it seemed, the thing wastrue. He could have declared that therewas not a deer anywhere within the rangeof his vision.

"Right in front," whispered Harry,impatiently. "About seventy yards off. Oh,look yonder!"

He stretched his hand out and at last Franknoticed what seemed to be a very slightlydifferent colored strip of somethingbehind a narrow opening in a thicket. Itmight have been withering fern, or acluster of fading leaves, but he wouldnever have imagined it to be a portion of adeer. Then his doubts vanished, for itsuddenly moved.

"Where shall I shoot?" he asked beneathhis breath.

"At the bottom of the bit you can see," wasthe low answer.

Frank threw up his rifle. He was too eagerto kneel or lie down, and it scarcelyseemed probable that the deer would waituntil he was comfortably ready. He linedthe sights on a twig immediately in front ofthe object, and though his hands hadquivered he found them growing steadieras he squeezed the trigger. He heard noreport, but there was a crash in the thicketas the smoke came drifting back, andHarry ran forward with a shout.

"Come on!" he cried. "You've hit it!"

Frank ran his fastest, though running of anykind was extraordinarily difficult. Inplaces the withered fern was higher thanhis head and there seemed to beinnumerable bushes in his way, whilewhen he endeavored to avoid them hegenerally came upon a giant tree whichhad to be scrambled around. Still, therewas no doubt that the deer was not far off,for he could hear it floundering through thebrakes and fern, and by and by he cameupon a trail of red splashes scattered hereand there upon the leaves.

"It's hit bad," panted Harry. "If we canhold out we'll get it yet."

They did their utmost for the next halfhour, but they never once saw the deer,which by the decreasing sound seemed to

be drawing away from them, and Frankfelt that it would be impossible for him tokeep up the pace many minutes longer. Hewas breathless, and dripping withperspiration, and his clothes were torn allover. Indeed, eager as he was, it wasalmost a relief when the sound in front ofhim gradually died away, and Harrystopped, gasping, and leaned against a fir.

"What are we going to do about it now?"Frank asked.

"Trail that deer," was the breathlessanswer. "It's not going very far. You cantell by the noise it made that it was hit toobad to jump."

Frank was of the opinion that it had gonequite far enough already, but he silently

watched Harry, who began to walk up anddown, looking carefully about him.

"It went through this bush," he said atlength. "After that it must have crossed thefern yonder." Then scrambling forward hewaved his hand. "Come on! The trail'squite plain."

Frank followed him with some trouble andonce more saw the red splashes on theleaves. Now and then they lost them for alittle while and the undergrowth did notseem to have been disturbed, but on eachoccasion Harry contrived to find the spotsagain. He traced them from place to place,moving more slowly and cautiously, whileFrank painfully broke through the thicketsin his wake. They were both nearlyexhausted when an hour after the shot was

fired they came to a little creek.

"It lay down here," said Harry. "We'llstop a minute or two. Guess that deer's'most as played out as we are."

This seemed very probable to Frank as heglanced at the broad red smear upon thedamp soil, and for the first time he wastroubled by a sense of compunction as herealized that there were two sides tohunting. The pursuers' labor was severeenough, but he could imagine what theflight must have cost the sorely woundedcreature who had so far managed to keepin front of them. He was scratched andtorn and exhausted, but at least he wassound in limb, while the deer must havestaggered on in anguished terror with itslife steadily draining from the cruel bullet

hole. Somewhere in his mind there wasnow a wish that he had not made so gooda shot.

"Do you think we're far behind it?" heasked.

"I don't, but that doesn't count," answeredHarry. "We have to follow it, anyway. Iremember when I got my first deer. Dadwas with me, and before I fired he askedif I thought I could hit it where I wanted. Isaid I did, and he told me to make sure,because if the beast got away with a bulletin it I'd have to trail it until it dropped."He stopped with a significant laugh. "As ithappened, we followed it close on threehours, through the thickest kind of bush,and—I wasn't so big then—it was mightyhard work to get back to the ranch

afterward."

Frank fancied that in the present case hemight drop before the deer did, though herealized that Mr. Oliver's rule was in oneway a merciful one and undoubtedlycalculated to encourage careful shooting.When he had recovered his breath a littlethey started again, but it was half an hourlater when they caught a glimpse of thedeer painfully laboring through a clump offern on the slope of a steep rise. Harrypitched up his rifle, and though the animaldisappeared again immediately after theyfired, they knew it was still going on bythe snapping of twigs and the rustling inthe fern.

Harry was sure that he had hit it, andmaking a last effort, they broke into a run

which Frank remembered for aconsiderable time afterward. The slopeseemed to be getting remarkably steep, hecould scarcely see a dozen yards in frontof him through the undergrowth, andseveral times he stuck fast for a moment ortwo in tangled thickets. Then he fell into ahorrible tangle of rotting branches,dropping his rifle and bruising himselfcruelly, and he only succeeded in forcinghimself along because his companionshouted breathlessly that the deer wasrapidly flagging. Frank could hear it veryplainly now.

At last when they reached the summit ofthe rise it came out into open view for amoment. The bush was thinner there, withless growth between the trees, and he saw

the animal limp out from a thicket,dragging an injured limb. He flung up hisrifle, and Harry who was a little in frontfired almost as he did. The deer staggered,made a feeble bound, and vanished as ifthe earth had opened under it. A momentor two later Harry stopped with a hoarse,gasping shout.

Frank stumbled forward and found himstanding on the brink of what seemed to bea very deep ravine, the almost precipitoussides of which were shrouded in youngfirs and densely growing bushes. Harrywas gazing dubiously into the gully.

"I don't quite know how we're going to getdown, but we'll have to try," he said. "Thedeer's at the bottom done for, and I don'tfeel like going home and telling dad we

left it. Besides, it's quite likely he mightsend us back for it."

"Then if it has to be done, we may as wellget about it," said Frank wearily.

Slinging his rifle, he crawled over theedge and went sliding and slipping downfor about a dozen yards until he fell intothe branches of a young fir. After that heplunged into several bushes before hecould stop again, and eventually loweredhimself foot by foot, clutching at whateverseemed strong enough to hold him, until healighted knee-deep in a splashing creek.Nearby the deer lay motionless where ithad fallen upon the stones. It was abeautifully symmetrical creature, but itseemed to Frank smaller than he hadexpected.

"A young black-tail," said Harry."Anyway, that's what we call them, thoughI believe it's really the mule-deer. There'sanother black-tail. We've got the deernames kind of mixed up on the PacificSlope."

Frank regarded the animal dubiously. "Itseems to me the most important question ishow we're going to get it home."

"Pack it," answered Harry. "But I'd betteropen it up first. You can sit down while Ido it, if you'd rather."

Frank would very much have preferred tosit down out of sight while the deer wasdressed, but it occurred to him that itwould scarcely be fitting to leave thedisagreeable part of the work to his

companion.

"No," he persisted, "I'll help as much as Ican."

"Well," said Harry dryly, "if you want togo hunting it's a thing you'll have to learn."

The operations that followed weresingularly unpleasant, and Frank felt agood deal less enthusiastic about huntingwhen he washed his hands and the sleevesof his jacket in the creek after they wereover.

"I don't know if I'll eat any of that deer,"he said.

"You'll get over it," Harry assured himwith a smile. "Anyway, in my opiniondeer meat isn't much of a delicacy. It's that

stringy you could 'most make lariats of it,unless you keep it until it's bad."

Frank felt inclined later to agree with thisstatement, but in the meanwhile Harry gotthe deer, which he had not yet skinned,upon his shoulders with its fore legspulled over in front of him, and theystarted back for the ranch. It was,however, some time before they couldfind a way out of the gulch, and then theyonly gained the summit by an arduousscramble. After that they found themselvesin exceedingly thick bush, with nothingthat Frank could see to guide them. Therewas probably not much light at any timedown among those great trunks whosebranches met and crossed high overhead,and what there was seemed to be getting

dim.

"If we keep on going down we'll strikesomething by and by," urged Harry. "Theslope's naturally toward the beach."

The first thing they struck was aremarkably steep hillside, up which theystruggled, Frank now carrying the deer,which he found heavy enough before hereached the top. Then a narrow valleyopened up before them, which did notseem to be what Harry had expected.There were one or two ponds in thebottom of it, and he gazed at themthoughtfully.

"We might get a duck," he mused. "Theyought to be coming down from Alaskanow. It's freezing up there."

They floundered down the declivity, and,though Frank would have preferred topush on straight for home, Harry insistedon creeping through the long harsh grassabout the edge of the water. They tried oneof the ponds with no result, but at lastHarry dropped suddenly behind a tallclump of grass.

"Look!" he said. "There are two or threeducks yonder. You take the nearest. Keepthe foresight as fine as you can."

Frank saw one or two small objectsfloating just outside the grass across thepond. They seemed to be a very long wayoff, and though he feared that he could notkeep the sights upon any of them standing,the ground looked horribly quaggy tokneel in. This could not be helped,

however, for it seemed that getting wetand torn did not count when one washunting, and he pressed his right kneedown into the mire. He could just see oneof the ducks when he closed his left eye,and he had misgivings as to the resultwhen he squeezed the trigger. Harry's rifleflashed immediately after his, there was arattle of wings and a startled quacking,and he saw two ducks with long necksstretched out fly off above the trees.Another seemed to be lying on the water,and remembering the size of the bullet, hehad no fear of that one getting away.

"The next thing is to get it," said Harry."It's not going to be easy."

He was perfectly right. They spent a longwhile struggling around the pond, into

which they had to wade nearly waist-deepbefore Harry contrived to rake the duck intoward him with the muzzle of his rifle. Itdid not look a sightly object when he hadsecured it, but he decided that there wasenough of it left to eat.

"Is it the one you shot at?" he asked with agrin.

"I can't say," Frank answered. "I shouldn'tbe surprised if it wasn't."

"Well," said Harry, "we're not going toquarrel about the thing. What we have todo is to make a bee-line home. We'll comealong again in a week or two. The pondsare full of ducks for a little in the springand fall."

"Only then?"

"They're not so plentiful between-whiles,"Harry answered. "Of course, our worstwinters aren't marked by the cold snapsyou have back East, and quite a few of theducks stay with us, while some put in thesummer, too; but in a general way everyswimming bird of any size heads north tothe tundra marshes by the Polar Sea inspring. In the fall they come back again,how far I don't know—lower California,Mexico, perhaps, right away to Boliviaand Peru. Going and coming, the bigflocks stop around here to rest a while."He smiled at his companion. "A mallardduck's a little thing, but he covers aconsiderable sweep of country."

He picked up the deer and they went on

again, but darkness overtook them beforethey reached the ranch, utterly worn out,with most of their garments rent to tatters;and Frank, who had carried the deer thelast mile or two, gave a gasp of reliefwhen he laid it down.

CHAPTER XVIIMR. WEBSTER'S GUNS

It was about a week after the boys' huntingtrip when Mr. Oliver's nearest neighbor,Mr. Webster, drove up to the ranch in adilapidated wagon. It was dark when hearrived, for the days were rapidly gettingshorter. When Jake had taken his horseaway he laid what appeared to be a smallarmory on the kitchen table and sat downby the stove. He was a young man with acareless, good-humored expression, andHarry aside informed Frank that his ranchwas not much of a place.

"I've brought you my guns along," said Mr.Webster, addressing Mr. Oliver, and thenlooked down at the dog, who had walkedup to him in the meanwhile and now stoodregarding him with its head on one side."Hello!" he added, patting it, "I'd 'mostforgotten you. You have managed to put upwith him, Miss Oliver?"

Miss Oliver said that she had grown fondof him, and the dog, after standing up witha paw upon the man's knee, dropped downon all fours at the sound of her voice andtrotted back to her without waiting foranother pat.

"I always had a notion he was anungrateful as well as an ordinary beast,"said Mr. Webster. "Would you havefancied my dog would leave me like that

after all I've done for him? I guess I'velaid into him with 'most everything aboutthe ranch from the grubhoe handle to theriding quirt."

Mr. Oliver laughed. "But why have youbrought your guns?"

"For you to take care of. My place getsdamp in winter without the stove on andI'm going away for a month or two. I'vetaken on a log-bridge contract with afellow I used to work with, on one of thenew settlement roads. The man who's beenclearing land up the creek took the fewhead of stock I had off my hands and thefruit trees will grow along all rightwithout worrying anybody until I get backagain. If one hadn't to do so much cuttingevery now and then, they'd be a long sight

handier than raising stock."

"Well," Mr. Oliver assured, "I think wecan promise to look after the guns. I didn'tknow you had so many of them."

Mr. Webster arose and walked toward thetable. "Though I never was a great shot,guns are rather a hobby of mine. I needn'tsay anything about these two—single-shotMarlin, Winchester repeater—but the old-timers seem to have a notion that a manmust excuse himself for keeping a scattergun. This"—and he picked up whatseemed to Frank a handsome single barrel—"is a thing I bought for a few dollarslast time I was in Portland. I allowed shewould do to keep the pigeons off my oats.Not much of a gun, but she throws out theshell." Then he took up a double gun with

the brown rubbed off the barrels, leavingbright patches. "This one's different;there's some tone about her. A sport I oncehad boarding with me gave her to mewhen he went away. Said I'd given him agreat time, and as he was fixed, it might betwo or three years before he could get outinto the woods again."

He sat down on the table and looked overwith a smile at the boys. "I don't know anyreason why you two shouldn't have thoseguns until I come back; they'll keep betterif they're used and rubbed out once in awhile, and there's a box of shells in thewagon. You can't call yourself a sportuntil you can drop a flying bird with thescatter gun, and there's considerably moreto it than most of the old-timers who can

only plug a deer with a rifle seem tothink."

He evidently noticed the interest inFrank's face, for he proceeded todemonstrate, standing up with the doublegun held across him a little above hiswaist.

"Now," he added, "you don't want to aim,poking the gun about. You keep it downand your eyes on the bird, until you'reready, and then pitch it up right on the spotfirst time—it's better with both eyes open,if you can manage it." The gun went in tohis shoulder and Frank heard the strikerclick, after which the man swung themuzzle half a foot or so. "Say you missed.You've still got the second barrel—"

They heard no more, for there was anappalling crash, a short cry from MissOliver, and a yelp from the dog whojumped into the air, while a filmy cloud ofsmoke drifted about the room. When itcleared Mr. Webster, who had opened thedoor, sat down on the table looking verysheepish and turned toward Miss Oliver.

"I'm sorry—dreadful sorry," he observedcontritely. "I hadn't the least notion therewas anything in the thing."

Mr. Oliver glanced at the ragged hole highup in the log wall and then looked at Mr.Webster with ironical amusement in hiseyes.

"Your instructions were good as far asthey went, but you have forgotten one

rather important point." He turned to theboys. "It's this. Never bring a gun of anykind into a house without first opening themagazine or breach, and if there's a shellin it, immediately take it out. It's aprecaution that's as simple as it'seffective, and though there was perhapssome excuse for an accident in the olddays when a man couldn't readily emptyhis gun unless he fired off the charge,there's none now."

"Sure," agreed Mr. Webster, who seemedto be getting over his confusion, for headdressed the boys again. "With wintercoming on, the best sport I know with ascatter gun is shooting flighting duck, andthere's plenty of them along the beach.They've a way of moving around in flocks

between the light and dark, which is thebest time, though you can get them throughthe night if there's not too bright a moon. Agood place would be those patches ofsand and mud behind the islands,especially when the tide's just leaving theflats. Take the sloop or canoe alongsometime and try it."

The boys thanked him and Frank's eyesglistened as he handled the light singlegun.

"What are you going to do with yourteam?" asked Mr. Oliver, changing thesubject.

"Anson down by Nare's Hill will takethem for their keep, but I might have madea few dollars out of them if I'd been

staying on."

"How's that?"

"Well," in a significant tone, "a man camealong three or four nights ago. I don'tknow where he came from, and I don'tknow where he went—he just walked inwith the lamp lit when I was gettingsupper. He wanted to know if I was opento hire him a team for a night or two."

"What kind of a man?"

"A stranger. He looked like a sailor andseemed liberal. Said he wanted the teamparticularly, and if I'd have them handywhen he turned up we needn't quarrelabout the figure. That must have meant Icould charge most what I liked."

"What did you say?"

Mr. Webster smiled. "I just told him thehorses were promised and I couldn't makethe deal. Anyway"—and he added this in adifferent voice—"I'd no notion of goingback on you."

"Thanks," said Mr. Oliver quietly, andthey talked about other matters untilWebster, making a few more excuses toMiss Oliver, drove away. When he hadgone she looked at her brother andlaughed softly.

"I was startled but not very muchastonished when the gun went off," shesaid. "The little incident was socharacteristic of the man."

The next day the boys commencedpracticing at flung-up meat cans with thecartridges he had given them and in aweek they could hit one every now andthen at thirty yards. Soon afterward Mr.Oliver went away. He only told the boysthat he was going to Tacoma, but Harrythought it possible that he wanted to seeMr. Barclay, since Mr. Webster's storymade it clear that the dope runners wereabout again. He announced ingenuouslythat they had better try the flight-shootingwhile his father was away, because if theycame back all right with several ducks hewould probably not object to their goinganother time. Miss Oliver seemeddoubtful when they casually mentioned theproject to her, but as she did not actuallyforbid it they set out with the sloop late

one afternoon, taking the dog with them.

It was falling dusk and the tide had beenrunning ebb two or three hours when theybeat in under the lee side of one of theislands they had passed on a previousoccasion on their way to the settlement.After anchoring the sloop where shewould lie afloat at low water somedistance off the beach they got into thecanoe and paddling ashore crossed theisland, which was small and narrow. Itwas covered with thin underbrush anddwarf firs, and on its opposite side abroad stretch of wet sand and shingle withpools and creeks in it stretched backtoward the channel, which cut it off fromthe mainland.

To the eastward, the pale silver sickle of

a crescent moon hung low in the sky, butwestward a wide band of flaring crimsonand saffron still burned beneath duskymasses of ragged cloud and the uncoveredsands gleamed blood-red in the fadingglow. A cold wind stirred the pines to aneerie sighing, and the splash of a tiny surfcame up faintly from the outer edge of thesands. The whole scene struck Frank asvery forbidding and desolate, and hefancied that there was a threat of wind inthe sky. Something in the lonelinesstroubled him, and for no particular reasonhe felt half sorry that he had come. Herealized that it would have been muchmore cozy in the sloop's cabin than uponthat dreary beach, and he said somethingabout the weather to Harry.

"We'll be sheltered here if the breeze doescome up, and this looks just the placewhere we ought to get a duck," hiscompanion answered. "There aren't manyspots like it around this part of the coast,where we've generally deeper water.Perhaps we'd better move on a littlenearer yonder clump of firs. They'll hideus from any birds that come sailing downto the flats."

"What's the matter with the dog?" Frankasked. "What's he snuffing at?"

The animal was trotting about with hisnose upon the ground and would not comewhen they called him.

"I don't know," said Harry carelessly."Perhaps somebody's been across the

island lately, though I don't think it's oftena white man lands here."

They took up their stations a little apartfrom each other among some very roughboulders, with the nearest of the firs on arocky ridge some thirty or forty yardsaway from them. Their ragged branchescut in a sharp ebony pattern against thesky, which was duskily blue. It was verycold and the wind seemed fresher, for thetrees were rustling and moaning, and thecalling of distant wildfowl came upthrough the increasing murmur of the surf.

Frank's boots had suffered from hard wearin the bush, and, as he had stumbled into apool, his feet were very wet, but hecrouched behind a boulder, clutching thesingle-barreled gun with cold fingers, and

watching the sky beyond the fir tops, forwhat seemed a considerable time. Nothingmoved across it except a long wisp oftorn-edged cloud, and he was commencingto wonder whether it would not be betterto go back to the sloop when Harry calledsoftly, and he heard a new sound in thedarkness somewhere beyond the firs. Itsuggested the regular movement of a rowof fans, which was the best comparisonthat occurred to him, for there was a kindof measured beat in it, and in another fewmoments he recognized it as the rhythmicstroke of wings. Then a double line ofdark bodies spreading out from a point inthe shape of a wedge appeared closeabove him against the sky.

He saw that they had long necks, but that

was all, for they were coming on with anextraordinary swiftness. There was acrash as Harry's gun flung a streak of redfire into the darkness. Then Frank pitchedup the single barrel, pulling hard upon thetrigger as the butt struck his shoulder. Hefelt the jar of it and saw a whirling blaze,after which he swung around when Harry'sgun flashed again.

The wedge, which had scattered, wasreuniting. He could just see it dotted uponthe sky, but he fancied that one dark objecthad come whirling down and struck theflats outshore of him a few secondsearlier.

"One, sure!" cried Harry. "I've an ideathere's a cripple, too, trailing on theground. Where's that dog? I wonder if he'd

hunt it up?"

They called, but there was no sign of theanimal.

"He'd probably sit down and eat it, if hegot it," said Frank, laughing. "As he isn'there, we'd better get after the birds."

They soon picked up the dead one, amallard, Harry said; but it was someminutes before they saw the otherfluttering across a patch of wet sand.Breaking into a run they were astonishedto find that they did not get much nearer,and it must be admitted that Frank firedagain without stopping it. After that, it ledthem through several pools and runlets ofwater, until at a flash of Harry's gun it laystill, but they were almost up to their

knees in a little channel before theyretrieved it.

"I wonder how long we'll have to waitbefore some more ducks come," saidHarry as they made their way back to theboulders. Then he suddenly looked abouthim. "Where can that dog have gone?"

They called a second time, but there wasstill no answer, and while they listened itstruck Frank that the sound of the surf wasgrowing more distinct.

"He seemed to be trailing something whenI last saw him," he answered. "I don't feelkeen on going after him. The top of theisland's rough. Perhaps, we'd better waithere until he comes."

They waited for about ten minutes andthen a succession of quick barks reachedthem, apparently from across the island.There was something startling in the soundand Frank turned sharply toward hiscompanion.

"He doesn't bark like that for nothing.Hadn't we better go along?" he suggested.

They started on the moment, stumblingamong the boulders and splashing intopools. The going was no easier when theyreached the firs, but they broke throughthem somehow, and when at length theyapproached the beach, which was steep onthat side, the dog came bounding towardthem and then ran back with a growl to theedge of the water. Looking around withstrained attention, Frank made out the

sloop, a dim, dark shape upon the water,for the moon was covered now. After thathe ran down toward the edge of the tide,but there was nothing unusual to be seen,though the dog again yelped savagely. Ashe stopped close beside the animalHarry's voice reached him.

"Where's the canoe?" he cried.

It was a moment or two before Frank sawher, and then he started and cast a quickglance at the strip of beach left uncoveredby the ebbing tide. The breeze was off theshore, and on arriving they had thrownover a lump of iron with a rope made fastto it and then paddled the canoe ashoreand shoved her out again to drift off as faras the rope would allow her, in order toavoid dragging her down over the rough

stones when they went away. Now sheseemed farther off than she should havebeen, and in another moment he realizedthat she was moving.

"She's adrift!" he shouted.

"Then we will have to get her," Harryanswered.

Frank laid down his gun and threw off hisjacket. Harry could swim better than hecould, but Harry was some distance backand the beach was very rough, while itwas clear that every moment wouldincrease the distance between it and thecanoe. He struck his knees againstsomething which hurt as he flounderedinto the water stumbling among the stones,but that did not matter then, and as soon as

it was deep enough he flung himself down.A horrible chill struck through him as heswung his left arm out, and he was badlyhampered by his boots and clothes, andthough he swam savagely the canoe wasstill some way in front of him when atlength he turned breathlessly upon hisbreast. What was worse, she was steadilydrifting farther off shore.

Chilled and anxious as he was, he thoughtquickly. He was far from certain that hecould get back to the beach, and even if hedid so, he would have to spend the nightwet through without any means of makinga shelter. The sloop was lying a good wayout and he did not think that Harry couldswim so far in that cold water. He wasquite sure that he could not, and it was

evident that there was nothing for it but toovertake the canoe.

For what seemed a very long time heswam desperately, and then just as he wasalmost alongside the craft something cameup behind him and seized his arm. Turninghis head with a half-choked cry, he sawthat it was the dog, who apparentlyintended to stick fast to him. The animal,however, hampered him terribly, andflinging it off he made a last effort andcontrived to clutch the canoe before itseized him again. Holding on by the lowstern he tried to recover his breath, whilehe wondered if he could manage to lifthimself in. It seemed to him that if hefailed to do it at that moment he could notexpect to succeed afterward, in which

case he would in all probability have tolet go before very long. Setting his lips hemade the attempt, and fallingheadforemost into the canoe he lay still fora few moments gasping, until he rose andpulled the dog on board. Then he hauledup the iron, which was still attached to therope, though it was not upon the bottom,and found a paddle. Two or three minuteslater he was back at the beach, and Harrygot in.

"Make for the sloop as fast as you can," hesaid.

Frank, now chilled to the bone, was gladto paddle, and they were soon alongside.Harry handed him up the birds and gunswhen he got on board, and then made thepainter fast.

"I'll start the stove first thing while you tietwo reefs in the mainsail," he said. "Iguess we'll want them, and the work willwarm you."

He disappeared below, and before hecame out again Frank had managed to getthe tack and leach down, which was not sodifficult now that the sail lay along theboom.

Harry gave him a quick look.

"Go in and strip yourself," he said."There's a blanket forward and somecoffee in the can. I'll be down by the timeyou have wrung out your things."

CHAPTER XVIIIRUNNING A CARGO

On crawling into the cabin Frank found thestove burning fiercely with the registeropen full blast. He was sitting near itwrapped in a thick blanket from which hisbare legs and arms protruded when Harryjoined him.

"This should thaw you out," the latter said."The place would do for drying fruit in.Got any coffee left?"

Frank gave him some, and when he haddrunk it Harry examined some of the

garments which were hanging about thestove.

"They'll be getting fairly dry in half anhour or so and then we'll pull out forhome," he added. "It's breezing up quitesmart now and I'd lie here until morningonly aunt would get badly scared. Shewouldn't say anything, but if Jake got totalking it would probably make troublewhen dad comes home."

"How did the canoe get adrift?" Frankinquired sleepily.

"That," said Harry with an excellentimitation of Mr. Barclay's manner, "is apoint I have been investigating. To beginwith, the killick had been hauled up sincewe pitched it over, and let go again—only

on the last occasion it was made fast so itwouldn't quite fetch the bottom." Heraised his hand in protest as Frank wasabout to speak. "It's a sure thing. Onestrand was chafed where I took a turn withthe rope, and that frayed bit had got moveda fathom or two along. I felt about until Istruck it."

Frank started, for this confirmed a hazysuspicion which had already been in hismind, but he stooped to pat the dog, whowas licking his uncovered foot.

"Hold on. Your tongue's rough," he saidbefore he looked up at his companion."What do you make of the thing?"

"Well," said Harry, "the man who did itwanted it to look as if the canoe had gone

adrift by accident. He was on the islandwhen we came along and the dog got afterhim. It's most likely he went off in a boator canoe while we were making for thebeach after we'd heard the barking. Seemsto me he'd some reason for wanting tokeep us here."

"You think he was one of the dope men?"suggested Frank.

"I wouldn't be greatly astonished if wesaw the schooner on our way home,"Harry answered with a chuckle.

There was some excuse for hisamusement, because Frank lookedsomewhat ludicrous as he sat thinkinghard with his brows wrinkled down andthe blanket falling away from him.

"I've an idea," he announced at length."The question, of course, is why shouldthe man who set the canoe adrift havelanded on a desolate place like this? Iexpect it's just its desolateness thatbrought him here. Now the smugglersprobably find it difficult to get hold of thedope in Canada, and they may have tosave it up in small parcels until it's worthwhile to send the schooner through. Shecouldn't come often with only a case ortwo, because it wouldn't pay and it wouldincrease the chances of somebody's seeingher. On the other hand, they may not beable to get rid of the stuff immediatelywhen she brings a big lot, and in that casethey'd be likely to make a cache of part ofit where nobody would be likely to strikeit and their friends could come for it later.

This island ought to be just the place."

Harry made a sign of assent.

"I guess you've hit it first time, but I'll goup and get the mainsail on her. I canmanage it alone with two reefs in, and youcan stay where you are until your clothesare a little drier, unless I call you."

He went out, and Frank heard a clatter ofblocks and flutter of canvas. After thatthere was a sharp rattling as Harry hauledin the anchor chain, and then the boatsuddenly slanted over with a jerk whichflung Frank backward against the side ofher. As he got up he heard the watersplash about her bows. A few minuteslater they began to swing sharply up anddown, and the thuds against them made it

evident that the sloop was plunging close-hauled through a short, head sea. By andby the plunges grew more violent, andstruggling into his clothes, which werepartly dry, Frank put out the lamp andcrawled out into the well. For a minute ortwo he could see nothing as he held on bythe weather coaming, though he felt thebuffeting of the wind and the sting of thespray upon his face. Then by degrees hemade out that the sloop was lying down onone side, with the small black strip of herdouble-reefed mainsail slanting sharplyabove her, and a filmy white cloud flyingat her bows. Suddenly the frothing waterbegan to glitter, and on looking up he sawthat the moon, which had grown brighter,had just emerged from behind a bank offlying cloud. Then Harry who sat at the

helm called to him.

"Look yonder! Just over the bowspritend," he cried.

Frank, gazing where his companion toldhim, saw a bright red twinkle low downabove the sea and apparently two or threemiles away.

"A fire!" he exclaimed. "On the island bythe point, isn't it?"

"A signal," Harry assented. "Guess it's toshow the schooner men the bush gang areready." He broke into a laugh whichreached Frank faintly. "They're figuringwe're safe on the island out of the way.You couldn't see that fire from the beachwe were left upon."

"What are you going to do?"

"Stand right on to where the fire is. Wehave to make a long leg on this tack,anyway. When we're close up with thepoint we'll consider. Get a little morehead sheet in if you can."

It cost Frank an effort, though the sloopwas carrying her smallest jib, and whenhe had made the rope fast he crouchedbeside his comrade in the partial shelterof the coaming with the dog at his feet. Itwas blowing moderately fresh, and thesloop was very wet, for the tide wasrunning with her and she thrashed on at agreat pace pitching the water all over,while the red twinkle ahead grew steadilyhigher and brighter. It was the only thingthat Frank could see, because the moon

had disappeared again.

In the meanwhile he wondered what hiscompanion meant to do, for he fancied thatHarry had something in his mind. Thelatter was like his father in some respects,since he did not, as a rule, explain whathis intentions were until he wasreasonably sure that he could carry themout. One result of this was that while eachseldom did less than he said he would henot infrequently did a good deal more.Folks of this kind, Frank reflected,inspired one with confidence.

At last, when the fire was large and bright,a head loomed up above it with thewavering glow falling upon its rocky face.On one side of the crag there was a stripof darkness, which Frank supposed was

water, and a little nearer him a longshadowy patch, which he knew to be anisland. He turned to Harry, who was justthen glancing up at the sky.

"We'll run right into the light if you standon much longer," he pointed out.

He had hardly spoken when the red blazesank down amidst an upward rush ofsparks, and as it died away Harry laughed.

"That means one of two things," he said."Either they've given the schooner up, orshe has her anchor down inside andthey've no more use for a light that mightset folks wondering, though I don't knowthat anybody would be likely to see it."

"Anyway, you'll go ashore if you stand

on," persisted Frank.

"It's not my intention that we should standon," said Harry, glancing up again at thecloud-barred sky. "We can just weatherthe island as she's lying, and when that'sdone I could put up my helm and runthrough the sound behind it. I'll do it if themoon keeps in. If the schooner's insideyonder we ought to see her."

Frank was rather staggered by theboldness of the idea. The strait seemednarrow and he fancied that it would befurther contracted by shallows now thatthe tide was getting low, while itappeared very probable that if they sawthe schooner her crew would see them. Ifshe were landing cargo there would beboats about, and he did not think it would

be pleasant to fall in with them, after thepains somebody had taken in setting thecanoe adrift. Still, though he was verydubious about its wisdom, the prospect ofthe adventure appealed to him and Harryseemed to take his consent for granted.

"We'll carry a fair wind through," thelatter announced. "If it's necessary wecould lower the peak down and that wouldleave very little canvas to be seen. Youhad better shorten the canoe up while Iluff. She's half full and towing heavily."

The mainsail thrashed and the speedslackened when he put down his helm, andFrank, hauling with all his might, draggedthe canoe up a little closer astern andmade her fast with a shorter rope, afterwhich Harry got way on the boat again. It

seemed to Frank to be blowing harder,and she swayed down farther, plungingfuriously through the short seas with awhite belt of surf which had shadowyrocks behind it to lee of her. The moonwas still hidden, but it was evident thatthey were very close to the end of theisland. By and by the white line to leesuddenly vanished and they stretched outinto the dark water, with a high, blackmass not far ahead.

"We've got to jibe her," said Harry. "Getthe peak down."

The deck was horribly slanted andslippery, but Frank made his way forwardalong it while the seas which seemedsteeper there drenched him with showersof cold brine. He found the halliard and

let it go, and scrambling aft as the head ofthe sail swung down, helped hiscompanion, who was struggling with arope, while he jammed the tiller over withhis shoulder.

"Handy!" cried Harry. "You must checkthe boom as it comes over."

The craft was coming round with her sternto the wind, and as she did so the canoecame up on the top of a sea and struck herwith a crash. Frank had, however, nothought to spare for her. He was draggingat the mainsheet as the big boom tilted upinto the darkness above his head, whilethe sloop rolled heavily. Then the upperpart of the bagging sail swung over with abang and he whipped the rope aroundsomething as the heavy spar followed it.

The sloop rolled at the same time untilhalf her deck was in the sea, the sheet wastorn furiously through his hands, and thecanoe hit her with another heavy thud asshe swayed up again. Then it drove astern,and Frank had space to gather his breathand look about him as they swept on intosmoother water.

Harry was edging in toward the low blackridge of the island, and there was a highermass on the opposite side crested withwhat appeared to be rows of pines, with adark gap between them. They could nowhear the surf on the weather side of theisland, which told them that they werealready behind it. Four or five minuteslater the channel twisted, and as theyswept around a black rock two or three

lights blinked out ahead, with a low redblaze behind them, apparently on theopposite beach.

"There she is; ready to clear at the shortestnotice," said Harry, stretching out apointing hand. "They've kept the boom-foresail and most of the mainsail on her,though I guess the anchor's down. We'llget the centerboard up."

They were drawing nearer the lightsrapidly, but it was two or three minutesbefore Frank, who heaved the board upinto its case, could make out a black massof fluttering canvas against the sky. ThenHarry spoke again:

"There's a shingle bank runs out not farahead and there can't be much water over

it now the tide's nearly run out. I'm afraidI'll have to pass on the other hand of theschooner."

Frank could understand why he did notwant to do this, since the channel wasnarrow and they must pass between thelights of the vessel and the fire upon thebeach. It seemed to him that it would besingularly awkward if they met a boatcoming from or going to the latter, which,however, was precisely what befell them.

Harry ran the sloop off as far as he dared,and Frank was watching the schooner'sblack hull rise higher when he made out adim shape that moved between her and thebeach.

"A boat, sure!" cried Harry. "Get the

mainsheet in. We'll have to take ourchances of the shoal."

He helped Frank with one hand, but thetask was almost beyond their strength, andwhile they dragged at the rope the half-seen boat and the schooner seemed to beflying toward them. Then as they made therope fast and the sloop headed in towardthe island a pale gleam from a light on thevessel fell upon her. It seemed impossibleto Frank that they should not be seen, butnobody hailed them, and while helistened, expecting every moment to hear ashout, a clatter of blocks broke through thesplash of approaching oars. Even behindthe island, the water was rather brokenand the men seemed to be pulling hard.

A moment later the light faded off the

sloop, though Frank could see theschooner comparatively plainly. Her tall,shadowy canvas was fluttering athwart thelight, and beneath it a cluster of indistinctfigures rose and fell as they heaved upsomething with a tackle. He could heartheir voices clearly, and he was glad toremember that the dusky ridge of theisland rose behind the sloop, though hewished his companion would run closer inwith it. He had seen all he wanted andonly desired to get away as soon aspossible.

It became evident by and by that Harryhad run in closer than was advisable, forthere was a crash and the sloop suddenlystopped. Almost immediately afterwardshe lay over with her boom and most of

her deck on one side in the water, whilethe tide, twisting her bows around,threatened to pour into her over thedepressed coaming. As she had come upnearly head to wind, her mainsail thrashedfuriously, jerking the boom up out of thesea every now and then and letting itsplash in again, while the flapping jibseemed likely to snap off the head of herrattling mast. Loose ropes appeared to beflying everywhere and Frank clungstupidly to the coaming, uncertain what todo. They were aground unfortunately closeto the schooner, and, he feared, withinsight of the men on board her. Harry'svoice, however, roused him to make aneffort.

"Jump forward with the big oar! We must

get her off," he said. "The tide's stillfalling."

Frank trod upon and fell over the dog,who fortunately was unable to seeanything over the coaming. He scarcelyheard it yelping as he scrambled along thesteeply slanted deck dragging the heavyoar. They got it over and thrust upon it indesperate haste in an attempt to cant herbow off, but as the tide swung her fartheraround her side came up against the oar,threatening to break it or pitch the boysover the rail, and for a while they strainedevery muscle in vain. Then she suddenlyswung back in the midst of a furious swirl,and Frank fell down on something thatseemed unpleasantly hard. Harry, flingingthe oar upon the deck, dropped close by,

feeling for a rope.

"Get up and get hold!" he criedbreathlessly. "We must box her round withthe jib. You can lie down afterward."

Frank scrambled up and pulled in a frenzy,and the boat swung farther around. Thenthe mainsail ceased fluttering, and jumpingaft they fell into the well, where Frankfancied that he trod upon the dog again.Harry immediately seized the tiller,thrusting it to weather, and the sloopcommenced to move slowly through thewater, though there was a harsh grindingbeneath her. By and by she suddenly shotforward again.

"She's off!" exclaimed Harry. "Give hersheet!"

Frank let the mainsheet run and afterwardleaned breathlessly upon the coaming witha thrill of relief as they drove out into thedeeper water; but it appeared that hiscompanion was not satisfied yet.

"She should run over to the opposite sidewithout bringing the boom across," hesaid. "There seems to be a big rockyonder and we could heave her to in thegloom of it. If I remember, it's goodwater."

"What for?" asked Frank, who wasanxious to get out of the channel.

"Well," said Harry, "we've seen theschooner, a boat, and a fire upon thebeach, but, after all, that's not a great dealto go upon. We want to make sure what

she's putting ashore."

The boom lifted ominously as he ran heroff and Frank fancied that somebodywould certainly hear the crash if he jibedit over. She stretched across, however,and, rounding her up close beneath a darkrock, they hauled the jib to windward andwaited. Though they were in deepshadow, a stream of flickering radiancefell upon the water not far away andlighted up a narrow strip of beach. A fewminutes passed and then Harry touched hiscompanion, who saw several men crossthe shingle with loads upon theirshoulders. Their figures showed blackagainst the light, and Frank fancied thatthey were carrying square wooden cases.After them came several more figures, but

these carried nothing and were dresseddifferently. They looked like Chinamenand they had evidently just got out of anunseen boat.

"Now," said Harry, "I guess that will do.If you'll trim the jib over I'll get way onher."

Frank was glad to do it. He felt that he hadseen quite enough and it would be wiserto get away before any misadventurebefell them. They ran out of the channeland were thrashing close-hauled into arather steep head sea when Harry spokeagain.

"There were four cases in the last lot, andanother boat went ashore," he observed."It looks as if they would swamp the

market. Dope's dear, and a little of it goesa mighty long way."

"Perhaps there was something else insome of the cases," suggested Frank.

"It's possible, though from the little I knowof the tariff I haven't an idea of what itcould be. Anyway, that's a proposition wecan leave to Barclay. They were certainlyChinamen and passengers who landed."

"How do you know they werepassengers?" Frank inquired.

Harry laughed. "If they'd been anythingelse they'd have had to carry those boxes.As a general thing, an American doesn'twork while a Chinaman watches him."

Nothing more was said, and half an hour

later when pale moonlight once morestreamed down upon the water theschooner swept out of the gloom astern ofthem. After that they went about and clungto the shadow along the land until they lostsight of her shortly before they ran into thecove.

It was very late when they reached theranch, but they merely informed MissOliver that they had had some troublethrough the canoe going adrift and hadbeen compelled to beat back against astrong head wind.

CHAPTER XIXTHE CACHE

Mr. Oliver came home soon after the boys'visit to the island, and when he had heardHarry's narration of their adventures hemade him tell it over again in the presenceof Mr. Barclay, whom he had broughtback with him. They were sitting in thelog-walled kitchen in the evening withtheir chairs drawn up about the stove, andMr. Barclay, holding his pipe in his hand,listened gravely.

"Well," he said, when Harry had finished,"you seem to be considerably more

fortunate in these matters than I am. Youhave seen the schooner several times, andother interesting things, while I haven'teven had a glimpse of the man with thehigh shoulder yet. I suppose I'll have toadmit at last that I've been upon his trailfor some time and have made someprogress."

"You might as well have admitted it in thebeginning," retorted Harry. "Some folksprogress slow."

Mr. Barclay's eyes twinkled. "As a rule,it's difficult to hustle the Government ofthe United States, and I'm inclined to thinkthe same thing applies to that of othercountries. However, as I said, we havegot ahead a little at the other end. Forexample, we have a tolerably accurate

notion where the dope goes."

"Then why don't you corral everybodywho has anything to do with it?"

Mr. Barclay's gesture seemed to beg theboy's forbearance.

"It's a sensible question. For one thing,strictly speaking, it's not my particularbusiness which is really to sit in an officeand dictate instructions most of the time.To some extent, these jaunts I've had withyour father have been undertaken by wayof innocent relaxation, although they mayprove useful in case certain gentlemensend me along a list of peremptoryquestions on which they want reports.They do things of that kind now and then."

"I didn't think it was your business to takea smuggler by the neck and haul him alongto the sheriff," said Harry with areproachful air. "Still, you could call outyour subordinates and send them off toround up the dope crowd, couldn't you?There must be some official machinery fordoing that kind of thing."

"There is," assented Mr. Barclay, refillinghis pipe. "The trouble is that it makes acertain amount of commotion, and whensilence is important you have to be carefulhow you set it to work. As a rule, it'swiser to have everything ready first. Themost careful plans fail sometimes if yourassistants are more keen than judicious.That"—and he smiled at the boys—"iswhy I was dubious about taking you into

my confidence before."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry with ironicalcourtesy. "Do you mind making what youmean to do a little plainer?"

"I'll try. In the first place, smugglingdoesn't seem to be considered a crimeunless you're caught at it. In fact, aGovernment of any kind is generallylooked upon as fair game, and few peoplethink much the worse of a man whosucceeds in doing it out of part of itsrevenue. How far that idea's right orwrong doesn't concern me. What I must dois to prevent it from being acted on toooften, and, taking the notion for granted;we don't want to put the laugh uponourselves if it can be avoided."

Harry made a sign of comprehension."Still, if you sent your people down herethey should be able to corral part of thegang."

"I agree with you," Barclay answereddryly. "It's possible, anyway—but whatwould the result be? Three or four personsof no importance might be seized, the restwould get away with a warning, and ourplans would all be sprung." Then the stout,good-humored man seemed to change, forhis expression suddenly hardened and alook which the boys had never noticedthere before crept into his eyes. "No, sir.We want them all, and when we move weexpect to gather in the whole rascallycombination."

"How can we butt in?"

"With your father's permission, you might,in the first place, invite me to an evening'sflight shooting."

"Wouldn't it be better to go across theisland in the daytime with the dog andJake and a couple of spades?"

"No," replied Mr. Barclay. "If myopinion's of any value, I don't think itwould be wise. Besides, I understand thatthe best time for getting a shot at flightingducks is in the twilight."

Miss Oliver laughed softly. "Enterprise isa good thing, and so is self-confidence,"she broke in. "On the other hand, I fancythat one can have too much of them, and aheadstrong impatience is one of the faultsof the young West."

Mr. Oliver looked at Harry, who grew atrifle red.

"There's truth in that," he remarked. "Onthe whole it might be better to leave allarrangements to the man in charge and justdo what he suggests."

"Sure," assented Harry, and as he offeredno more suggestions the matter wasdecided with a few more words.

Late in the next afternoon the boys set outwith Mr. Barclay in the sloop, and as whatwind there was blew off the land theycrept along close in with the beach, whichwas high and rocky and shrouded withthick timber. When they drew abreast ofthe island the tide was higher than it hadbeen on the last occasion, but Mr. Barclay

said that they had better leave the sloop inthe little bay in front of them and cross thechannel in the canoe. He was a heavy man,and when he cautiously dropped into thecraft her stern sank ominously near thewater.

"You'll have to get farther forward and sitquite still," said Harry in a tone ofauthority, but with an amused look.

He took his place astern with Frank, whopicked up the other paddle, in the bow,and a stroke or two drove them out intothe rippling tide. It was growing dark,though the sky overhead was softly blueand there was a glimmer of pale saffronaround part of the horizon. To theeastward the moon was just appearingabove a bank of cloud. The wind, which

had freshened, blew very cold, and Frankshivered until the paddling warmed himand he found that he could spare nothought for anything else. The tide wasrunning over the shallows with a ripplethat splashed perilously high about theside of the deeply loaded canoe, and nowand then whirling eddies drove them offtheir course. Once, too, they ran aground,and Harry had to get in knee-deep toshove the craft off, while when theyapproached the end of the island they hadto struggle hard for several minutesagainst the stream which broke into littlefrothing waves, during which the canoegot very wet. They came through,however, and reaching smoother water ranthe canoe in and pulled her out, afterwhich Frank was about to walk off up the

beach when Harry stopped him.

"One learns by experience, and I don't feellike swimming," he observed. "We'llcarry her right up and hide her in thebushes."

They did so with some difficulty andHarry afterward waited until Mr. Barclayspoke.

"We came out shooting," said the latter. "Idon't see any reason why we shouldn't geta duck."

He turned to Harry, as if to ascertainwhether he objected to this, but the boylaughed.

"If you don't know of any, I needn't botherabout the thing," he answered. "There's a

moderate breeze right off the beach andthe guns couldn't be heard far towindward."

"I'm not sure I'd mind them being heard ifanybody chanced to be about. It mightsave the inquisitive stranger fromwondering what we were doing here, andthe excuse strikes me as a nicer one thangoing swimming late at night in front of aSiwash rancherie."

Harry chuckled. "Wait until you fall overyour boot tops into a pool, or follow acrippled duck through the water."

"I shall endeavor to avoid the first thing,"said Mr. Barclay. "There's a remedy forthe other, so long as I've two assistants."

They went back to the beach and waitedthere some time until Frank heard aregular beat of wings, and a drawn-outwedge of dusky bodies appeared abovethe trees dotted upon the sky. He wasfarthest from them and he watched Mr.Barclay, who had brought a gun with him,standing, an indistinct, half-seen figurethirty or forty yards away. At last the manthrew up his arms, there was a quickyellow flash, a crash, and then a secondstreak of flame leaping from the smoke.After that there followed two distinct andunmistakable thuds, and Frank pitched uphis gun as Harry fired. He heard twojarring reports and running forward sawMr. Barclay pick up a bird that had fallenalmost at his feet.

"There's another over yonder," the latterremarked.

Harry found it in a minute or two andhanded it to him.

"One with each barrel!" he said, andadded with a rueful laugh, "I don't see anymore about."

"Then I think we'll take a look around theisland," Mr. Barclay answered.

He left the beach with the boys, but theydropped behind him and let him take thelead when they reached the scrubby firswhich were scattered more or less thicklyabout the rocky ground. Frank fancied thatHarry had some reason for doing this andthe supposition was confirmed when Mr.

Barclay stopped a moment beside a brakeof withered fern and then, after stoopingdown, carefully skirted it as he went onagain. The sky was clear, and though themoon was in its first quarter it shed a faintelusive light.

"That man can shoot, and it looks as if hewas quite as smart at picking up a trail,"said Harry in a low tone. "Anyway, if I'dbeen looking for a stranger's tracks I'dhave tried yonder fern and I'd have beenas particular not to smash any of it downas he was. I've an idea he must havechuckled sometimes when I got guyinghim." He paused and added thoughtfully,"It's the kind of fool thing you're apt to dounless you're careful."

After this they spent a considerable time

wandering up and down a portion of theisland, though Frank fancied that Mr.Barclay, who asked Harry a question nowand then, had some purpose that guidedhim. The moonlight was too dim and theshadows among the trees too dense forhim to follow a trail steadily, but heseemed to be prospecting for likely placeswhere footprints or broken-downundergrowth might be found. At lengththey reached a little stony hollow, with arock that rose some six or seven feet onone side and dark firs clustering closeabout it. Here Mr. Barclay stopped andlooked about him before he turned toHarry.

"Now," he said, "this is a spot that couldbe easily described and located by

anybody who happened to be told about it.That rock would make a first-class mark.If you had anything to bury for somebodyelse to dig up, where would you put it?"

Harry walked about the place, steppingcarefully upon the stones and avoiding thescattered underbrush, until he reached aclump of withered fern.

"Right here," he replied, and kneelingdown pulled some of the yellow frondsabout. Then he looked up sharply. "Thisstuff's very dead and it's lying flat," heexclaimed. "Farther on the stems aren'tbroken and some of them don't seem quitedried up yet."

Frank acknowledged that these werethings he would not have noticed, but Mr.

Barclay nodded.

"Somebody else may have fixed on thesame spot as you have done," he said. "It'spossible, though I don't think it's more thanthat. There might be half a dozen similarplaces on the island, but if you'll handlethe fern carefully it wouldn't do any harmto make a hole."

They had brought a light spade with them,and after Harry had cleared the groundFrank set to work with it. He had taken outonly a few shovelfuls of soil and shinglewhen he gave a cry of surprise as hestruck something that seemed more solid.

Harry and Mr. Barclay stooped downbeside him. The latter struck a match andlighted a piece of paper he took from his

pocket, and before it went out Frank hadcleared the soil away from the top of asmall wooden case.

"It's rather more than I could havereasonably expected," said Mr. Barclay,"but when you haven't much to act uponit's wise to make the most of what you'vegot and leave the rest to chance. Now youmay as well shovel that dirt back."

"Aren't you going to take the thing out?"Frank asked in astonishment.

"No," replied Mr. Barclay, "I don't thinkit's necessary. It wouldn't be the first timeI'd seen opium and we don't want to leavetoo plain a trail behind us. As we havespent some time on the island already,hadn't you better get to work?"

Frank flung back the soil and when he hadfinished Harry replaced the loose fernwhich he had carefully laid aside. He didnot, however, seem satisfied with the wayhe had arranged it and when he looked upat Mr. Barclay his manner was diffident.

"I'm afraid I can't do any better in thedark," he said.

"It will probably be dark when the nextman comes along," Mr. Barclay answered."Anyway, the first breeze of wind orheavy rain will straighten things up. In themeanwhile we'll get back to the sloop."

They turned away, but they had scarcelygone a hundred yards when Mr. Barclayput his hand into his pocket and stopped.

"I've dropped my pipe," he said. "It wasrather a good one."

"Then I know where it is," Frank broke in."You must have pulled it out with thepaper. I heard something fall, but I wastoo interested to bother about it. If you'llwait, I'll go back and get it."

The others sat down when he left them, buthe spent some minutes scrambling aboutnear the fern before the faint gleam of asilver band upon the pipe caught his eye.Picking it up he turned back to rejoin hiscompanions, and a few moments later hereached an opening between the firs bywhich they had left the hollow. The treesrose in black and shadowy masses oneither side, but their ragged tops cutsharply against the sky, and a faint,

uncertain light shone down into the gapbetween them. Soon after he strode into itFrank stopped abruptly, for there was acrackle of dry twigs and a soft rustlesomewhere in front of him, and he couldthink of no reason why Harry or Mr.Barclay should come back. If they hadwanted him to do anything they could havecalled him.

He felt his nerves tingle as he stood andlistened. The sound had ceased and hecould only hear the wind among the firswhose tops rustled eerily. But presentlythe unmistakable fall of a heavy foot cameout of the shadows. Then he shrank backinstinctively a pace or two into deepergloom, for there was no doubt thatsomebody was approaching, and while he

waited a black figure appeared in theopening not far in front of him. The faintlight was behind the man and he showedup against it dim and indistinct, but Frankrealized that he was not Mr. Barclay. Helooked taller and less heavily built. Thenthe boy dropped noiselessly and held hisbreath, for a brittle branch had crackedunder him. The stranger stopped andseemed to be gazing about him.

He moved on again, however, and Frankturned his face toward the ground, fearingthat it might show white in the gloom, butit was only by a determined effort that heheld himself still and mastered the desireto crawl back farther into the shadow. Heknew that if he yielded to it he would beon his feet in another moment and might

break away into the bush or do somethingelse which he would afterward regret. Herealized that Mr. Barclay and Harry musthave seen the stranger and had for somereason kept out of sight and let him go by.

In the meanwhile the man was drawingnearer and Frank made out that he wascarrying something. It seemed almostimpossible that he could pass withoutseeing the boy, and the effort it cost thelatter to lie still became more arduous. Itwould have been an unspeakable reliefeven to spring up and face the strangerwith empty hands. Then he drew level,and once more Frank set his lips as helistened to the footsteps. At every momenthe expected them suddenly to stop. Theycontinued, however, and although, since

he dared not turn, he could not see the mannow, it was clear that he had passed.

Frank waited a minute or two longer andthen rose softly with a gasp of ferventrelief. He was annoyed to feel that he wasstill quivering with the tension and hestood still a few moments to regain hiscomposure before he went quietly backtoward his companions. As he neared thespot where he had left them Mr. Barclaystepped out from behind a tree.

"You met that man?" he asked.

"Yes," said Frank, "that is, I saw himcoming and kept out of the way. Hewalked close by me and I think he wascarrying a spade."

"He was," Mr. Barclay assented. "I wasafraid he might surprise you, but wecouldn't shout and warn you withoutalarming him, which I didn't want to dofor one or two reasons. We'll wait hereuntil he's through with the business thatbrought him."

He drew Frank farther back among thetrees and soon after they sat down a faintrustling followed by a clatter of stonesreached them from the hollow. There wasno doubt that the man was digging up thecase. Harry, who was lying near Frank'sfeet, moved restlessly and at length herose.

"That fellow's certainly one of the gang,"he said. "I don't see why we shouldn't gethim. Frank and I could work around

behind the hollow and head him off whileyou walk in."

"Well," said Mr. Barclay dryly, "whatwould follow?"

"You could have him sent up."

"I daresay I could. What would be the useof it?"

"You'd have got one of them, anyway."

"Sure," said Mr. Barclay, "and I'd havescared off all the rest. I suppose I must begreedy, but I wouldn't be content with onebush chopper who probably only takes ahand in now and then. As I believe I toldyou, I'm after the whole gang."

Harry said nothing further for a while, and

then he stopped and listened.

"He's coming back," he whispered.

The sound of footsteps came out of theshadow, and presently Frank saw a duskyfigure pass among the trees carryingsomething upon its shoulder besides thespade. They waited until there was silenceagain and then moved quietly back to thebeach, from which they saw a canoe crossthe channel. Half an hour later theypaddled across and duly reached thesloop.

"If that man had known she was here hewould probably not have gone," Mr.Barclay observed. "As he didn't see herwhen there was a little light left, it'sreasonable to suppose he couldn't have

noticed her coming back in the dark, andon the whole I'm satisfied with the resultof the trip. But it might be better if youwent somewhere else for your flightshooting after this."

Then they set the mainsail and started backfor the cove, keeping close in along thebeach.

CHAPTER XXMR. WEBSTER'S

SLASHING

A month passed, which the boys spentquietly in grubbing up stumps andchopping. Then Mr. Oliver suggested thatthey go over to Mr. Webster's ranch andburn off his slashing, as he had promisedits absent owner to send them. He addedthat they could camp there for the nightand get a little hunting when they had donethe work. There was a nipping air whenthey started early in the morning, eachwith a packet of provisions and a blanket

upon his shoulder, and the newly turnedclods in the clearing were iron-hard. ThePacific Slope is warmer in winter than theAtlantic coast, but there are times whenthe cold snaps are sharp enough in itsnorthern part, and the boys were glad toplunge into the shelter of the woods wherethe frost was less stinging.

They reached the ranch without muchtrouble, and when they stopped at the sliprails Frank, who had not been therebefore, looked about him. The bushclearings are much alike, but this one wassmaller than Mr. Oliver's. A little, veryrudely built log house stood at one endwith thick timber creeping close up behindit. There was also an unusual quantity ofunderbrush among the stumps near the

door, which Frank had occasion to noticemore particularly later. In the meanwhileit struck him that the place had an uncared-for look and Harry seemed to share hisopinion.

"Webster's a very ordinary rancher," heremarked. "He can't stay with a thing andfinish it. When he's about halfway throughhe lets up and starts something else. Anyother man would have grubbed out all thatwithered stuff about the house andchopped back the bush behind it. It's notsafe to have big trees growing so close."

"Why?" asked Frank.

"Because of the fires. They come alongevery now and then. It's lucky there's nowind to speak of, because I wouldn't put a

light to this slashing if there was."

Frank glanced at the belt of fallen timberbehind the fence on one side of theclearing. It had been badly cut and someof the trees lay across each other, whileonly a few of the branches had beensawed off and the undergrowth had notbeen mowed. If the fall had not been a dryone it would have been difficult to burnthe slashing. Then he glanced up at theleaden-gray sky above the pine tops andfancied that it looked threatening. Thedense wall of somber sprays seemedunusually harsh of aspect, and there wassomething curious about the light.Everything was gray and raw-edged, andhe shivered, for the faint wind had blownacross a wilderness of snowy mountains.

"It's not the kind of day for hanginground," he said. "Let's get to work."

Entering the house they found a can of coaloil and plenty of rags, for a heap of worn-out clothing lay in a corner.

"They'll hold oil and that's about allthey're good for," Harry remarked. "Iexpect it's months since Webster pitchedthem there with the idea that he mightmend them sometime."

Frank carried out one or two of the duckgarments, and when they had torn them upand soaked them in coal oil he and Harryset about lighting fires here and there inthe slashing, after which they stood nearthe door of the house and watched theconflagration. The fires spread rapidly,

and one side of the clearing was soonwrapped in crackling flame that workedbackward from the neighborhood of thefence, licking up branches andundergrowth as it neared the bush. Thatdid not stop it, for the fire had flung outadvance guards which leaped forwardswiftly through the withered fern andhurled themselves in crimson waves uponthe standing trunks. They seemed to splashupon them, flinging up fountains of blazingbrands and sparks that seized upon thelower sprays and sprang aloft until eachassaulted tree was wrapped in fire frombase to summit. The conflagration madethe draught it needed, and by and by itroared in what seemed to Frank malicioustriumph as it pressed onward into theforest under a cloud of rolling smoke.

Where it would stop he did not know, buthe was almost uncomfortably impressedby the spectacle.

"It's a full-power burn," said Harryapprovingly. "Guess it's going to clean upthis slashing. And now we'll look aroundand see if Webster's left anything we canmake our dinner in."

There was a stove in the house, but theysoon discovered that it did not burn well,and Harry glanced disgustedly at thespider Frank discovered.

"A hole in the bottom of it!" he saidcontemptuously. "That's the kind of thingWebster uses. I'll be astonished if youdon't find another hole in the kettle. Youhad better go along to the well and fill it."

In a few minutes Frank came back with thekettle, which fortunately did not leak, andHarry set it on the stove and laid a pieceof pork in the spider, which he tilted onone side.

"It's going to be about an hour before thatkettle boils, and, though I feel like doingit, there's no use in straightening up thisshack in the meanwhile because the manwould muss it up again as soon as hecomes back. There's a slough beyond therise yonder, and as it lies to windward wemight get a shot at something. We could beback before dinner's ready."

Frank would have preferred to stay wherehe was, as he had already done a goodmorning's work. He assented, however,and accompanied Harry up a steep and

very rough slope and down the oppositeside of it. When they reached the bottomthey plunged into a waste of tall grass andhalf-decayed vegetation among the rootsof which the frost had not penetrated. Asthe result of this they sank to the kneeshere and there, and Frank more than oncefell down. He soon had enough of it, buthe was beginning to realize that there wasvery little worth doing in the bush whichcould be accomplished, so to speak, withone's gloves on. The small rancher andhunter must expect to get wet and ragged,as well as weary and dirty, and must facethe unpleasantness cheerfully and mendhis clothes afterward. The only othercourse was to stay in the cities.

Presently Harry discovered the tracks of a

deer leading out of the valley and pointedthem out to his companion.

"You won't mind waiting for yourdinner?" he asked.

"No—not very much," Frank answereddubiously.

This satisfied Harry, who led the way upthe hillside, and it seemed to Frank thatthey scrambled over fallen logs andbranches and through thick undergrowthfor the greater part of an hour before theycrept carefully down again to anotherhollow. Though they floundered all aroundit there was no sign of the deer, and Frankwas relieved when his companionintimated that they might as well go backto the ranch. Dinner was the first thought

in both their minds when they reached it,but it struck Frank that the fire had becomea tremendous conflagration and he noticedthat a dense cloud of smoke was blowingacross the clearing.

"It's a real fierce burn and there's morewind than there was, but we'll get a mealbefore we look around," Harry remarked.

There were, however, one or twodifficulties in the way of their doing this.The kettle had boiled nearly dry, and thepork had disappeared through the burned-out bottom of the spider. Harry said thathe could manage to fry another piece onthe rim of it if Frank would refill thekettle, and eventually they sat down todinner and spent a long while over it.Then Harry got up reluctantly.

"I guess we had better see what the fire'sdoing," he observed.

Frank was almost appalled when hereached the doorway. The whole clearingwas thick with smoke, out of which thereshot up a furious wall of fire that rose andfell with a crackle resembling volleys ofriflery and a roaring even moredisconcerting. What was worse, it seemedto be creeping into the thick bush behindthe house, and Harry, running a few pacestoward the corner of the building, stoppedaghast with the red light flickering on hisdismayed face.

"Dad promised he'd get Webster'sslashing burned, but it wasn't in thecontract that we'd burn off his house," hesaid. "We'll have to hustle. See if there's

an ax and grubhoe in that woodshed."

Frank found the tools, and while heattacked the larger bushes near the back ofthe house, Harry began to cut down theundergrowth in front of it. By and byFrank came back and they dragged thebrush away toward the clearing where itcould burn harmlessly, but the smoke grewmore blinding and every now and then ashower of sparks fell about the boys. Firessprang up among the underbrush, andfalling upon them with the ax and spadethey savagely thrashed them out. Frankburned his hands in doing so, but therewas no time to trouble about that and hetoiled on, coughing and choking, until atlast they were forced to stop for breath.

They stood close in front of the house,

with a mass of withered fern and half-burned brush smoldering in front of them,while a sheet of fire rose and fell amidstdense clouds of smoke behind thebuilding. The daylight appeared to bedying out, but Frank could not be sure ofthat, because it was almost dark onemoment as the smoke rolled about themand the next they stood dazzled by a floodof radiance.

"We have done 'most all we can," saidHarry wearily. "It was the wind getting upthat made the trouble—I should havenoticed it—but if it stands for the next halfhour we ought to save the house. The fire'seating back into the bush all the while."

"Should we get any of the things out?"Frank asked.

"I'm not smart at handling hot stoves, andthere's mighty little else in the place,"Harry answered with a laugh. "I wouldn'tbid a dollar for Webster's pans andcrockery, and he made the table and thetwo chairs. Still, I don't know any reasonwhy we shouldn't sling them out."

Just then the smoke rolled down about theboys in a blinding cloud; there was a greatsnapping and crackling, and a shower ofblazing fragments drove them back thirtyor forty yards across the clearing.Presently the smoke thinned, and a row ofstripped trunks behind the house wasoutlined against a tremendous sheet offlame. Frank took off his hat and shook afew red embers from the crown of it.

"When we were getting those rags I

noticed a keg behind them," he said.

"A keg?" said Harry sharply.

"A little keg. It looked thick and stronglymade."

The red light struck full upon Harry's face,and Frank saw that consternation wasstamped upon it.

"Then," he said, "it's full of coarse, tree-splitting powder. Some of the ranchers useit for blowing out stumps. Did you noticewhether it had been opened?"

"The head seemed loose and one of thehoops had been started."

"Sure!" said Harry with dismay in hisvoice. Then he broke out in quick anger:

"It's just the kind of thing Webster wouldleave lying around near his stove, withouttaking the trouble to head it up again. He'llhave some detonators lying loose, too—I've heard he uses giant powder. We'vegot to bring them out."

They looked at each other with set faceswhile the sparks whirled about the house,and both were conscious of an almostuncontrollable impulse to vacate theclearing with the greatest possible speed.It was to their credit that they mastered it,and in a moment or two Harry spokeagain:

"The sparks shouldn't get at the keg if weput a jacket over it, and one of us couldcarry all the detonators Webster's likely tohave in his pocket."

Frank had heard that the big copper capswhich are used to fire giant powder willcontain a tremendously powerfulfulminate, and he was conscious of a verynatural reluctance to carry a number ofthem about his person through the showersof fiery particles that fell about thebuilding. Indeed, he afterward confessedthat if Harry had not been with him nothingwould have induced him to approach it.How he screwed up his courage he did notknow, but as the flame leaped up again thesight of a strip of blazing fence had itseffect. The rest of it had been destroyed,and he felt they must make an effort tosave the house.

"It wouldn't take us long to get the powderout," he said with a note of uncertainty in

his voice.

Harry sprang forward and Frank was gladthat he did so. He realized that this wasnot a matter for calm discussion, andvigorous action was a relief. Anothercloud of smoke met them as they drewnear the house, and the sparks that cameflying out of it fell thick about them. Theheat scorched their faces and they gaspedin the acrid vapor, while Frank's eyeswere smarting intolerably when hestaggered into the building. There was,however, less smoke inside it, and afierce light beat in through one window.Flinging the old clothes about they cameupon the keg and found that the head waslying loose. Working in desperate hastethey forced the top hoop upward and

Harry wrapped a woolen garment over thetop of the keg. After that he flungeverything in a lidless wooden case outupon the floor and pounced upon a littlebox that fell among the rest.

"Detonators!" he shouted. "What's in thepacket near you?"

Frank tore the paper savagely. "It lookslike thick black cord."

"Fuse," said Harry. "It's harmless. I don'tsee any giant powder. Hold on. I'll lookaround his sleeping room."

He vanished through an inner door andFrank soon heard him throwing thingsabout. The suspense of the next fewmoments was almost unbearable. A

pulsating radiance alternately lighted upthe room and grew dim again, and the roarand crackle of the fire set his nervestingling. Then Harry ran back toward him.

"I can't find any giant powder," hereported, and added, "get hold of the keg.We'll carry it between us."

Frank set his lips as they sprang out of thedoor with it. The keg was not remarkablyheavy, but it was an awkward shape andtoo big for either of them to carry on hisshoulder or beneath his arm. Indeed, Frankfelt his hands slipping from its roundedend and he was horribly afraid ofdropping it among the patches ofsmoldering undergrowth and glowingfragments which lay all about him. A fewmoments later thick smoke whirled about

him, and he hardly breathed as hestruggled through it until it blew awayagain. Then, to his relief, he saw that thehouse was some distance behind them andthey were clear of the worst of the sparks.They went on, however, to the oppositeside of the clearing, where they depositedthe powder, and then dropped thedetonators a little farther on, after whichHarry sat down on the frozen groundpanting heavily.

"It's done and I want to get my breath," hesaid. "The next time I burn a slashing I'llsee there's no powder about the placebefore I begin."

Frank made no answer. He was glad to sitstill and recover, for the strain had told onhim. Indeed, he was almost sorry when his

companion stood up again.

"Perhaps we had better get back and pitchsome water on the roof," he suggested. "Iwas too busy to think of that before."

The wind seemed to be dropping and thesparks were not quite so bad when theyreached the house. They found a bucket,and after smashing more of the ice uponthe shallow well Frank climbed up on thewoodshed which reached to the low roof.The latter was covered with cedarshingles and he wondered why it had notignited, because the sparks were stilldropping upon it and there were severalcharred spots. This, however, was not aquestion of much consequence, and Harrykept him busy during the next half hoursluicing the roof with water which he

passed up in the bucket. Some of it wentover Frank's hands and clothing and it wasicy cold, but they worked on steadilywhile the fire worked back farther fromthem into the bush. It had burned mostfiercely when it had the dry branches inthe slashing to supply it, but these were alllicked up, and though the small stuffblazed the great standing trunks would notburn. There were already rows of themrising, charred and blackened columns,behind the slashing.

At last Harry called Frank down from theroof.

"You can let up," he said. "It's hardlylikely we'll have any more trouble.There's a lamp and some canned stuff inthe shack, and as we'll have to camp here

I'll make some coffee. It's quite darknow."

Frank concluded that it had been darksome time, though he had not noticed whendusk crept down. He was glad to find thestove still burning when he entered thehouse, very wet, and aching in every limb.The kettle was soon boiling, and, as therewas no bottom in the spider, Harry, whohad found a bag of flour and a can ofsyrup, contrived to make some flapjacksand what he called biscuit on the top ofthe stove. He said that this would be nodrawback because Mr. Webster neverblacked the thing, and Frank found no faultwith the cakes when they ate them hot withsyrup.

Then they filled up the stove with the full

draught on and lounged contentedly besideit while their clothing dried on them. Theyhad had a heavy day, but now that thedanger was over they were no more thancomfortably weary and the thrill of the laststirring hours remained with them. Frankfelt that they had done something worthwhile that afternoon.

When he diffidently pointed it out Harrylaughed.

"Sure!" he agreed. "Still, it's quite likelythat Webster will get jumping mad whenhe sees his fence, though it won't take himmany days to split enough rails for a newone."

A little later Frank walked across theroom and opened the door. The

undergrowth on one side of the clearinggleamed white with frost. On the otherside a few big branches still snapped andglowed, and there was a red glare behindthe black rows of trunks, but it was nowbroken by patches of darkness and hecould see that the fire was rapidly dyingout. He came back with a shiver and satdown in his warm seat beside the stove.

CHAPTER XXIA NIGHT ON THE SANDS

There was a sprinkle of snow upon theground, and the boys were working in Mr.Oliver's slashing one afternoon a weekafter their visit to Mr. Webster's ranchwhen Harry, who had just hauled up a log,stopped his oxen and addressed his father.

"It looks as if it would be a fine night," heremarked.

"Yes," said Mr. Oliver. "I've no fault tofind with the weather. We'll get most ofthe logs piled for burning if it lasts."

Harry smiled at Frank. "Dad's slow totake a hint. I wasn't thinking of the logs."

"I can believe it," Mr. Oliver retorted."Anyway, they have to be hauled out, andit's easier to do it now than when the soil'ssoft and boggy."

Frank, who had been heaving the sawedtrunks on top of one another with Jake,agreed with the rancher. The big massesof timber slid easily over the snow andthey were clean to handle, which wassomething to be thankful for after thedifficulty they had had in moving themwhen they were foul with clotted mire.The frost, as he had discovered, seldomlasted long in that country, but it was verycold and the firs towered flecked withsnow against a clear blue sky.

"I was wondering if there was any reasonwhy we shouldn't try to get a duck to-night," said Harry. "We won't go near theisland where the cache is. There's a flatbehind the other one to the southward."

"I can think of one reason," his fatheranswered. "You won't feel like workingto-morrow, and there's a good deal of log-hauling to be done."

"We'll be ready to start as usual,"persisted Harry.

"Then you can go on that condition, butyou'll have to stick to it. I don't mind yourgetting a few hours' shooting now andthen, but I expect you to be ranchers firstof all when there's work on hand."

Harry repeated his assurance and Mr.Oliver made no more objections. Whenthey had heaved up the next log Jaketurned to the boys.

"There'll be a moon and I guess you're notgoing to do much on the flats," he said."You want to cut two very short paddlesand put some spruce brush that you can lieon in the canoe. Then if you keep quite flatyou might creep up on a flock of ducks inone of the channels. You can't do it if youuse the ordinary paddle kneeling."

He split them two flat slabs off the butt ofa cedar, but Mr. Oliver, who waschopping nearby, looked around whenHarry began to hack them into shape.

"What are those for?" he asked.

"Paddles," Harry answered with somehesitation.

"You're logging just now," said his fatherdryly. "I want another tier put up beforeit's dark."

Harry laid down the half-finished paddlesand grinned at Frank.

"I guess dad's quite right, but his way ofstaying with it gets riling now and then."

Frank laughed. One day when Harry hadhurt his knee and there was no work of anyconsequence on hand, Mr. Oliver hadtaken him out into the bush, and the boyhad a painful recollection of the journeythey had made together. No thicket wastoo dense or thorny for the rancher to

scramble through, and he prowled aboutthe steepest slopes and amongst thethickest tangles of fallen logs with thesame unflagging persistency until at thefirst shot he killed a deer. Mr. Oliver was,as his son and Jake sometimes said, astayer, one who invariably put throughwhat he took in hand. He was the kind ofperson Frank aspired to become, thoughhe was discovering that he was not likelyto accomplish it by taking things easily.Success, it seemed, could only be attainedby ceaseless effort and constantcarefulness.

He went on with the logging, though thework was remarkably heavy, and it wasan occupation he had no liking for, but hehelped Harry to finish the paddles after

supper. Then they carried a bundle ofspruce twigs down to the canoe, and,though there was not much wind, tied areef in the sloop's mainsail, which Mr.Oliver had insisted on before they loosedthe moorings.

An hour later and shortly before lowwater they let go the anchor in a lane ofwater which wound into a stretch ofsloppy sand. It was just deep enough forthe sloop to creep into with hercenterboard up, and the flats ran backfrom it into a thin mist on either side. Itwas very cold and the deck glittered in thepale moonlight white with frost. Frankstood up looking about him while Harryarranged the twigs in the canoe, but therewas very little to see. The sky was hazy,

the moon was encircled by a halo, and wetsand and winding water glimmeredfaintly. At one point he could dimly makeout the dark loom of an island, but therewas no sign of the beach in front of him.Though he could feel a light wind on hisface, it was very still, except for theripple of water and the occasional splashof undermined sand falling into thechannel, which seemed startlingly distinct.Once he heard a distant calling ofwildfowl, but it died away again.

Dropping into the canoe when hiscompanion was ready he took up one ofthe longer paddles. The water was quitesmooth and they made good progress, butHarry did not seem satisfied.

"If I'd had any sense I'd have brought a

pole to shove her with," he complained."It's handier in shallow water and theducks seem to be a long way up. A creekthat runs out on the beach makes thischannel."

Frank paddled on, watching the sloppybanks slide by and the palely gleamingstrip of water run back into the haze infront of him until at last it forked off intotwo branches.

"We'll try this one," said Harry. "I believeit works right around behind the island.The flood should come up that end first,and it ought to drive the feeding birdsback over the sands to us."

The water got deeper as they proceeded,for Frank could feel no bottom when he

sank his blade, but there was no sign ofany duck until at last they heard a faintquacking in the mist. Soon afterward therewas a shrill scream as a flock of some ofthe smaller waders wheeled above theirheads.

"Now," said Harry, "we'll try Jake's idea.If the ducks aren't on the water they'll bealong the edge of it where the bank's soft.You don't often find them feeding wherethe sand's dry and hard."

They placed the guns handy, and lyingdown upon the spruce brush dipped theshort blades. Frank found the position avery uncomfortable one to paddle in, andhe could not keep his hands from gettingwet, though the water was icy cold. Theywere fast becoming swollen and tingled

painfully in the stinging frost. Still, theboys made some progress, and at lastlooking up at a whisper from Harry, Franksaw a dark patch upon the water somedistance in front of him. Harry edged thecanoe closer in with the bank, which had aslope of two or three feet on that side.

After that they crept on slowly, becausethey dared not use much force for fear ofsplashing, and Frank's wet fingers wererapidly growing useless. The ducksbecame a little more distinct and he couldsee other birds moving about in the faintgleam on the opposite bank. Some of them,standing out against the wet surface,looked extraordinarily large, though hecould not tell what they were.

At last a sudden eerie screaming broke out

close ahead and Frank started and almostdropped his paddle as a second flock ofwaders rose from the gloom of the bank.They flashed white in the moonlight asthey turned and wheeled onsimultaneously slanted wings. Then theyvanished for a moment as their duskyupper plumage was turned toward theboys, gleamed again more dimly, and thehaze swallowed them. They had, however,given the alarm, and the air was filledwith the harsh clamor of startledwildfowl.

"Now!" cried Harry. "Before the ducks getup!"

Frank flung in his paddle and pitched hisgun to his shoulder, with the barrel restingon the side of the canoe. It sparkled in the

moonlight, distracting his sight, and stunghis wet hand, but he could see dark bodiesrising from the water ahead. As hepressed the trigger Harry's gun blazedacross the bows, and following the doublecrash there was an outbreak of confusedsound, the sharp splash of webbed feetthat trailed through water, a discordantscreaming, and the beat of many wings.Indistinct objects whirled across themoonlight and as Frank with stiffenedfingers snapped open the breach Harry'sgun once more flung out a train of yellowsparks. Then the smoke hung about themsmelling curiously acrid in the frosty airand they seized the paddles to drive thecanoe clear of it. When they had left itbehind them the lane of water was emptyexcept for one small dark patch upon it,

and the clamor of the wildfowl was dyingaway. They had paddled a few yardswhen Frank made out that something wasstumbling away from them along theshadowy bank, but they were almostabreast of it before he could get anothershell into the chamber. The bird lay stillwhen he fired, and Harry picked up theduck on the water, after which he ran thecanoe ashore.

"So far as I could see, the rest of themheaded across the flat toward the otherchannel," he said. "It looks soft here, but,as you'll have to get out to pick up theduck yonder, it might be a good idea if youfollowed them over the sand. I'll workalong the creek and it's likely that anybirds I put up will fly over you."

This seemed possible to Frank, whorealized that the walk would warm him,and he stepped out of the canoe intoseveral inches of slushy sand. Flounderingthrough it, he picked up the duck andthrew it to Harry, who shoved the canoeout.

"I won't go far and you had better headback toward the forks in half an hour orso," he said. "I'll probably be waiting."

The canoe slid away, and Frank felt sorrythat he had left her when he reached theharder top of the bank. The level flatwhich stretched away before him into themist looked very desolate, and the deepstillness had a depressing effect on him.He also remembered that in another houror less the flood tide would come

creeping back across the dreary waste. Hecould, however, think of no reasonableexcuse for rejoining his companion, andturning his back on the channel he set outacross the sand. Nothing moved upon it ashe plodded on, the silence seemed to begrowing deeper, and he had an idea thatthe haze was denser than it had been. Still,he determined to make the round Harryhad suggested and quickened his pace.

It was some time later when he heard adouble report that sounded a long way offand he stopped to listen, when the clamorof the wildfowl broke out again. It diedaway, but he fancied that a faint, rhythmicsound stole out of the silence thatfollowed it. A minute later he was surethat a flight of ducks was crossing the flat

and, what was more, that the birds wereheading toward him. As yet he could seenothing of them, for there was now nodoubt that the mist was thicker. Hecrouched down as the sound increased, asit occurred to him that he would be tooplainly visible standing up in themoonlight on the level flat.

The sound drew nearer, growing in asteady crescendo until he wondered that aduck's wing could make so much noise,and at last a number of shadowy objectsbroke out of the mist, flying low andswiftly in regular formation. The gunflashed, and the ducks swept on andvanished, all but one which came slowlyfluttering down out of the mist.

Frank spent nearly a minute fumbling with

stiffened fingers while he crammed inanother shell, and then saw that the duckwas running across the sand some way off.Closing the breach he set off after it, andhad got a little nearer when it rose,fluttered awkwardly, and fell again,though it was able to make good progresson its feet. Twice he got within sixty yardsof it, but on one occasion it flew a littleway, and on the second it swam across along pool which he had to run around.Indeed, it led him a considerable distancebefore he brought it down.

Picking it up he stopped and looked abouthim. It was pleasant to feel a littlewarmer, but there was nothing to guidehim toward the other fork of the channelexcept the drift of the mist and the chill of

the wind upon one side of his face, and hecould not be sure that the wounded birdhad led him straight. The flat was leveland bare except for little pools of wateron which were glistening filaments of ice.It was, however, too cold to stand stillwith wet feet and consider, and decidingthat the sooner he got down to the forks thesooner he would be back on board thesloop, he set off briskly. He had hadenough of wandering about that desolatewaste.

At last, to his relief, he saw a faint silveryglimmer ahead in the mist, and turning offhe struck the channel a little lower down.There was no sign of a duck or anythingelse, but he was by no means sorry forthis, for his one idea was to get back to the

forks as soon as possible, and the surestway of doing it was to follow the creek. Itappeared to be a considerable distance,though he walked as fast as he could,splashing straight through shallow poolsand slipping in half-frozen mud, and whenat last he reached the spot where thechannels branched off he could seenothing of Harry or the canoe. Whattroubled him almost as much was the factthat the stream was now flowing inland,and after a quick glance at it he shoutedwith all his might. His voice rang alongthe water and level sand, but though hecalled again no answer came out of thedrifting mist. Then he slipped his handinto his pocket to get a cartridge and drewit out again with an exclamation of disgust,recollecting that he had only picked up

three or four loose shells in the canoe.

For a moment he stood still considering,and it occurred to him that the situationwas not a pleasant one. The flood tidewas making and he did not know how faroff the beach was, while he had no desireto spend the night in the woods. He couldnot see the island, and in order to reach ithe would have to cross the main channel,which, as he remembered, was moderatelydeep. On the whole it seemed wiser towade through the smaller fork and, ifHarry did not overtake him in themeanwhile, try to get on board the sloop.She would float in very shallow waterwith her centerboard up, and he hadtouched bottom with the canoe paddle afew yards away from her.

When he had arrived at this decision heplunged into the water, which immediatelyrose above the top of his long boots. Itwas horribly cold, but this caused himless concern than the fact that it rippledstrongly against his legs, which made itclear that he must get down to the sloop asfast as possible. He was over his kneesbefore he got across, and then he ran hishardest along the edge of the channel,which seemed to be growing wider atevery moment. The palely gleaming waterwas perfectly smooth, but it was movingwith an ominous speed.

He grew breathless, but he did not slackenthe pace. He went straight, splashingthrough trickling water and into pools,while he strained his eyes for the first

glimpse of the sloop, but he could only seethe mist which hid the sand thirty or fortyyards in front of him. At last he made out astrip of something solid low down aheadand then what seemed to be a mast, and afew moments later he stopped at thewater's edge. There was nothing but waterin front of him and it was no longer quitesmooth. Little ripples ran along the sand,and one broke about his feet while hegazed at them. It did not recede butsplashed on, and when he looked aroundthere was at least a yard of water behindhim. Then he struggled with a paralyzingsense of dismay, and strove to keep hishead. It was necessary to think and thinkvery hard.

He could not wait where he was with the

water deepening about him; while, if hewent back and did not find Harry beforehe reached it, the creek, which he wouldno longer be able to cross, would headhim off. If he followed it up on the nearside it would take him away from thecanoe, and he did not know how far off thebeach was. There was evidently only onething to be done and that was to get onboard the sloop even if he had to swim.

She seemed a horribly long way out, buthe splashed in hurriedly, afraid to wait amoment lest his resolution should meltaway, and he was soon waist-deep with astrong stream swirling around him. It wasalmost impossible to keep his feet, the gunhampered him, and the coldness of thewater seemed to check his breathing and

take the power out of his limbs. He couldnot go back, however, and face a journeythrough the mist across the waste of sand,and setting his lips he struggled on. Twicehe was almost swept away, but at lastmaking a savage effort he clutched thestern of the craft and scrambled up on toher deck.

The first thing he did was to light thestove, and when a pleasant warmth beganto fill the cabin he was conscious of astrong desire to sit still and dry hisclothes. That, unfortunately, was out of thequestion, and he reluctantly crawled outand stood up on deck. There was nothingbut water around him now. It stretchedback on every side into the mist, and theonly sounds were the soft lap of the tide

and the ripple it made flowing over thinlycovered sand. Then having alreadydecided that Harry would have somedifficulty in paddling against the stream,he set about getting sail upon the craft togo in search of the canoe.

The mainsail looked remarkably big andheavy, and he was thankful that there wasa reef in it, which made the task a littleeasier before he got it up. Then he spentseveral minutes in very hard work heavingthe boat up to her anchor, and bruised hisswollen hands in the determined effort itcost him to break it out. After that he setthe jib and the sloop slid gently away withthe wind abeam of her. He did not knowexactly where she was going, but heshouted as loudly as he could every now

and then, and at last there was a faintanswering cry.

He called again and the cry rose moreclearly, after which he hauled the sheetand changed his course, and by and by thecanoe appeared out of the haze closeahead. A few moments later Harrypaddled alongside, and handing up theducks and his gun made the canoe fastbefore he turned to Frank.

"Do you know where you're heading for?"he asked.

"No," Frank confessed. "I've only a notionthat it's in toward the land."

"Then we'll drop the jib and pitch theanchor over. We'll have to wait until the

stream slackens before we get out again."

They followed his suggestion and Frankwas glad indeed to creep back into thecozy cabin.

"This is uncommonly nice," drawledHarry, sitting down with a smile ofcontent. "It was horribly cramping in thecanoe and my hands were 'most too coldto paddle."

"What kept you?" inquired Frank.

"I must have gone farther than I intendedand when I turned back the tide wasrunning up so strong I could hardly makehead against it. I was getting scared aboutyou when I reached the forks and saw howthe water was spreading on the sand. After

that I didn't spare myself, but I was mightyglad to hear your shout."

"Did you get any more ducks?"

"No," said Harry, "I had only one shot—along one."

Frank, who told him to make some coffee,stripped off part of his clothes anddressed himself in an old blanket, afterwhich they sat beside the stove for an houror so, until Harry crawled out and saidthat there was a little more wind and themist was thinning.

Shortly after this they heaved the anchorand started again, but once more the windfell light and a couple of hours had passedand they were almost frozen when they

reached the cove below the ranch. Thehouse was dark when they crept into it andwent straight to bed, while it cost Frank adetermined effort to get up before daylightnext morning. His clothes were still dampand he felt sore and aching, but he took hisplace with the others when they sat downto breakfast.

Logging seemed a particularly unpleasanttask that day, but he had to go on with it,and he fancied that Mr. Oliver, with whomit was necessary to keep pace, workedharder than he usually did. Frank wascompletely exhausted when as darknessfell they went back to the ranch.

"Are you going out again after ducks to-night?" Mr. Oliver asked him.

"No," said Frank ruefully, "I feel as if itwould take me a week to get over the lasttrip."

"I'm not very much astonished," Mr.Oliver answered with a soft laugh. "Still, Idon't mind admitting that you stood up toyour work to-day."

CHAPTER XXIITHE ULTIMATUM

The frost soon broke up, and it wasraining heavily one afternoon, when theboys were at work in an excavation theyhad driven under a big fir stump shortlyafter their shooting trip. Frank, very wetand dirty, lay propped up on one elbowwith his head and shoulders inside thehole, chopping awkwardly at a root. Hislegs and feet were in a pool of wateroutside and there was very little room toswing the ax, while at every blow thesaturated soil fell down on him. Grubbing

out a stump in wet weather is a singularlydisagreeable task.

Harry crouched close beside him wherehe was partly sheltered from the rain bythe network of roots which rose above hishead. The boys had spent most of the daycutting through those which ran along thesurface of the ground and digging to get atthe rest, until they had been forced todrive a tunnel to reach one or two whichwent vertically down, for it was anunusually large stump. At last when his axshoved through the obstacle Frank pausedfor breath, and, as it was getting dark inthe excavation, Harry lighted a piece ofcandle. The light fell upon a massive shaftof wet wood which sank into the ground.

"Nobody fixed as we are could chop

through that," he grumbled. "It's the bigtaproot, and it would take most of anotherday's shoveling to make room to get at itwith the crosscut. It looks as if we'd haveto put some giant powder in. Where's thatauger?"

Frank reached out for the boring tool,which resembled a huge corkscrew, onlythat instead of a handle it had a hole at itsupper end for the insertion of a shortlever.

"I'll bore while you get things ready, ifyou like," he suggested. "Do you often usedynamite?"

"We never fire a shot when we can help it,though there are ranchers who get througha lot of the stuff. Giant powder's

expensive, and, though labor's expensive,too, you have to figure whether a shot'sgoing to pay. It's worth while if it willsave you grubbing most of the day. Slantthe hole you bore a little upward while Igo along for the magazine."

Harry crawled out of the excavation, andFrank slipped a crossbar through the holein the auger, driving the point of the latterinto the wood. It went in easily, but thework grew harder as he twisted it roundand round, kneeling with his shouldersagainst the roots, while the candleflickered and big drops of water trickleddown on him. The position was acramping one, and his wet hands slippedupon the crossbar, but he had becomeaccustomed to doing unpleasant things,

and it was evident that one could not cleara ranch without grubbing stumps.

By and by Harry came back, and tellinghim to hold the light carefully, producedwhat looked rather like a yellow candle,and a piece of black cord with a coppercap nipped down on the end of it.

"That's the detonator," he said, pointing tothe cap. "You saw one or two of them atWebster's ranch."

"I didn't feel inclined to stop and examinethem then," Frank answered with a laugh.

"They're very like the caps used for guns,only, as you see, they're bigger, and it'swise to be careful how you pinch onedown on the fuse. The stuff they fill the

end with is mighty powerful. So's giantpowder, but it's peculiar because it willonly burn unless you fire it with somethingthat makes a bang. At least, that's what itdoes in a general way. The trouble is youcan never be quite sure of it."

He worked the soft yellow substance overthe detonator, after which he thrust itgently into the auger hole and pressed ahandful of soil down on it. Frank wasthankful when he had finished, for havingheard of the tremendous powers of thegiant powder he did not care to be shut upwith it among that network of roots. ThenHarry, straightening the strip of black fusewhich projected from the hole, took aquick glance about him.

"We'll make sure we can get out before

we light it," he remarked, taking thecandle and holding it to the fuse. "Youdon't want to stay around once the fuse isburning. Crawl back and hold those rootsup out of my way."

The candle was by this time sputtering andsparkling, and Frank swung himself up outof the hole and set off madly across theclearing, shouting to Mr. Oliver and Jake,who were at work not far away. Hiscompanion, following close behind,stopped him presently.

"Hold on!" he shouted with a laugh. "Youneedn't run right down to the cove. Giantpowder's kind of local in its action, andthat charge isn't going to turn the wholeclearing upside down."

They waited behind a neighboring stump,and a few minutes later Frank, who hadfelt himself thrilled with expectation, wasgrievously disappointed. He had lookedfor a spectacular result, but there was onlya dull, heavy thud, a sound of rending andsplitting, and a wisp of vapor out of whicha little soil flew up.

"Now," said Harry, "we'll go along andhave a look, but we'll work around thestump and come at it down the wind."

"Why?" Frank asked.

His companion snickered. "Only that itwould probably knock you over, I'd letyou go and see. It's wise to keep clear ofthe gases after firing giant powder. Theyhaven't the same effect on everybody, but

most men who get a whiff of them want tolie down for the rest of the day."

They approached the stump cautiously onits windward side, but there was not muchto see. It appeared to have been split andwas slightly raised, but it had certainly notbeen blown to fragments, as Frank hadexpected.

"Do you think the shot has cut the root?"he asked.

"No," said Harry with a smile, "youcouldn't call it cutting. It has melted it,swallowed it, blotted it right out. You'llfind very little of that root to-morrow, andthere won't be any pieces lying roundeither."

He broke off and grabbed Frank's arm asthe latter moved toward the other side ofthe stump.

"Come back!" he warned. "The gas ishanging about yet."

Frank noticed a rather unpleasant smell,and was conscious of a pain in his head,but it passed off as they crossed theclearing together. As it was getting toodark to work, Mr. Oliver and Jake joinedthem before they reached the house. Theychanged their clothes when they went in,and after toiling in the rain all day Frankwas glad to sit down dressed in dry thingsat the well-spread table. The room wasvery cozy with its bright lamp andsnapping stove, and the doleful wail of thewind and the thrashing of the rain outside

emphasized its cheerfulness. He feltlanguidly content with himself and thesimple, strenuous life he led. For the mostpart, though they had occasionaladventures, it was an uneventful one, andsome time had passed since they hadheard anything of the dope runners. Hewondered what had become of them, or ifthey had found smuggling unprofitable andhad given it up.

Supper was about half finished when therewas a knock at the door and the dog rosewith a growl. Harry seized the animal'scollar just as a man appeared in theentrance. His clothes were black withwater and a trickle of it ran from the brimof the soft hat he held in one hand. He wasa young man and the paleness of his face

suggested that he was from the cities.

"Is it far to Carthew Creek?" he inquired.

"Eight or nine miles," Mr. Oliver replied."The trail's very bad and you'll have sometrouble in keeping it on a night like this.Have you any reason for going straightthrough?"

"I believe a steamboat calls to-morrowand I thought of going back with her. I'vehad about enough of these bush trails."

"Then we'll put you up," said Mr. Oliverobligingly. "You can get on again firstthing in the morning. You're wet enoughnow, aren't you?"

The stranger admitted that he was, butseemed to hesitate.

"I don't want to trouble Miss Oliver," hesaid. "Still, as it happens, I've a messagefor you."

Mr. Oliver said that he would give himsome dry clothes, and the two withdrew toget them. They came back a few minuteslater and sat down at the table. Thestranger made an excellent meal, and Mr.Oliver waited until he had finished beforehe asked a question:

"Have you walked in?"

"From the settlement," the other answered."As I expected to get back by thesteamboat, I left my hired horse withPorteous at the store."

"Porteous doesn't keep the store."

"The other fellow got hurt chopping aweek or so ago. A log or a big branch fellon him, and they sent him off to Seattle.Porteous is running the business until hegets better."

Frank fancied that Mr. Oliver wasdispleased at this, but there was no changein his manner toward his visitor.

"Is he running the post office, too?" heasked.

"Oh, yes. I had to tell him something abouta letter."

"You mentioned that you had somebusiness with me. I suppose you'relooking up orders for fruit trees?"

The stranger smiled. "I'm a store clerk by

profession. Out of a job at present. Name'sT. Graham Watkins. Now you know me."

He turned to Miss Oliver with a bow, butshe made no comment, and he glancedtoward the boys.

"We've got to have a talk," he added,addressing Mr. Oliver. "I'm not sure you'dwant these young men or your sister tohear."

"You can tell it here," said Mr. Oliverdryly. "I can make a guess at yourbusiness, and if I'm right I've noobjections to the others staying where theyare."

"Then it's just this. The folks I representaren't pleased with you. They've a notion

that you've been bucking against them forthe last few months and trying to find outthings they'd rather keep dark."

"I presume you're referring to the doperunners. Why didn't they comethemselves?"

"That's easily answered," said Mr.Watkins. "I understand you haven't seenone of them yet, and they don't want togive you an opportunity of doing so."

Harry grinned at Frank across the tableunnoticed by the speaker.

"In my case it doesn't matter," the latteradded. "I've merely called to give you amessage."

"Aren't you rather hanging fire with it?"

Mr. Oliver asked.

"I feel kind of diffident. I don't want to sayanything that might alarm your sister."

Miss Oliver smiled. "You needn't hesitate.My brother generally takes me into hisconfidence, and I don't think either of us isvery easily startled."

"Won't you send the boys away, anyhow?"

"No," said Mr. Oliver quietly, "I think Imentioned that I'd rather let them stay."

"Well," said the other, "this is theposition. The gentlemen you mentionedcan land their stuff near here and get itaway through the bush easily; that is, ifyou'll lie by and take no hand againstthem. There are other routes, but they're

longer and more difficult, and my friendswould rather stick to this one if it'spossible. The question is how can theymake it worth your while to shut your eyesand leave them alone?"

Harry suddenly straightened himself andFrank noticed the quick flush of anger inhis face, but Miss Oliver was smiling andthe rancher's voice was as tranquil asusual.

"The answer's very simple," he said. "Itcan't be done."

Mr. Watkins appeared astonished.

"I want you to consider your position," herepeated.

"I may tell you that I considered it

carefully some months ago, but there's apoint I'd like to mention. Has it struck youthat I might promise to fall in with yourfriends' views and all the same give themaway?"

"It was talked about," Mr. Watkinsanswered. "We decided it wouldn't be inkeeping with what we knew about yourcharacter, and you'd certainly be sorry youhad done it afterward."

"Now we're coming to the second andmore important half of the message," saidMr. Oliver.

"You're right," was the answer. "I'm tounderstand that when you say you won'tmeet my friends' views it's your lastword?"

"Yes," said Mr. Oliver firmly.

"Then my message is a plain one. Let up,or look out. I want you to fix your attentionon the last part of it. You have quite a niceplace here, a high-class barn andhomestead, and a good hay crop, andthere's nobody living within some miles ofyou except Webster."

"Precisely!" said Mr. Oliver. "They costme a good deal of very hard work and Ishall try to keep them. Now I supposeyou've said your piece?"

Mr. Watkins raised his hand as if to beghis forbearance.

"You've heard it all. I only want to addthat I'm quite willing to start right now for

Carthew if you wish it."

Mr. Oliver laughed naturally and easily.

"No," he said, "you're my guest for thenight. After this we'll change the subjectand talk about something else." He lookedaround. "Harry, will you bring the cigarbox out?"

Mr. Watkins did not appear to be abrilliant conversationalist, but hediscussed politics and railroad extensionwith his host, and Frank found himselfwondering at and admiring the rancher'sattitude. He had shown no sign of angerand had never failed in courtesy. Threatshad apparently no effect on him, and hehad received them with a quiet amusementwhich appealed in particular to the boy's

fancy. It seemed ever so much finer thanblustering indignation, but he thought thatthere would be a striking change in Mr.Oliver's manner if he were ever driven toaction.

Mr. Watkins took his departure afterbreakfast next morning, after which Mr.Oliver wrote two letters before he calledthe boys.

"I want you to take the sloop and go up tothe settlement," he said. "You will mailthis letter there. It's to Barclay, though itisn't directly addressed to him."

Harry looked thoughtful.

"Of course," he said hesitatingly, "I'll dothat if you wish it, but Porteous is a mean

white, isn't he? Mightn't he open thething?"

"It's possible," Mr. Oliver answered witha smile. "As it happens, I've no greatobjections to his reading it, and I'mmailing it with him as an experiment.Don't put it into the box, but hand it to him.When you have done that sail back alongthe beach and then head right across toBannington's, where you'll mail this otherletter. As you can't be back to-night, youhad better take some provisions with you.Start as soon as you can."

The boys were off in half an hour, for therain had stopped and there was a clear skyand a moderate breeze. As they sailed outof the cove Harry from his place at thehelm glanced at his companion with a

chuckle.

"When you come to understand him, dad'sunique," he said. "Porteous will open thatletter. He's mean enough for anything, andit's been my opinion all along that he's inwith the gang."

"But won't it give your father's plans awayif he reads it?"

"Not much!" said Harry. "Haven't you gothold yet? The letter's about hunting, andthere's most likely an order in it forWinchester shells or something else thatwill put Porteous off the track. He'sprobably not an expert at openingenvelopes, and it won't take Barclay longto tell whether anybody has beentampering with the letter. The other one

will go through without being interferedwith. They're white at Bannington's."

"That won't get over much of thedifficulty, after all," Frank objected."Won't your father's answer bringWatkins's friends down upon the ranch?"

"It's possible," said Harry. "I've a notionthat when they come dad will be ready forthem, and I fancy Barclay's nearly throughwith his trailing."

"You expect he'll make a new move then?"

Harry laughed. "Sure!" he said. "Thatlittle, fat man will get everything fixed upwithout making the least fuss. Then he'llbring his hand down once for all andsmash the whole dope-running gang. I

don't mind allowing that I was quitewrong about him at the beginning."

They said nothing more upon the subject,and they safely reached the cove next dayafter a long, cold sail.

CHAPTER XXIIIMR. OLIVER OUTWITS

HIS WATCHERS

A day or two after they had got back to theranch Mr. Oliver asked the boys if theywould like another trip, and as both ofthem preferred it to grubbing stumps theypaddled off to the canoe with him thesame evening. A fresh breeze sprang up asthe sun went down, and they had a fast andrather wet sail. Daylight was breakingacross the scattered pines when the partyleft the sloop and walked up a trail withinsight of a little lonely settlement.

As they approached it a harsh clankingand the tolling of a bell rose from behindthe trees, and they had to wait while alocomotive and a string of freight carsjolted across the trail into a neighboringside track. When the train had passed Mr.Oliver and his companions crossed therails and entered a desolate flag station,which consisted of a roughly boarded,iron-roofed shack and a big water tank. Infront of it was an open space strewn withfir stumps, and beyond the latter three orfour frame houses rose among the trees.The door of the shack was shut, and whilethey stood outside it the sound of anapproaching train grew steadily louderand a jet of steam blew noisily from thevalve of the locomotive waiting in theside track.

"A Seattle train," said Mr. Oliver. "Theydon't seem to be flagging her and sheprobably won't stop."

Frank stood looking about him with acurious stirring of his heart. There was agaudy poster pasted up on the shackannouncing cheap tickets to Seattle, with aline or two about a circus and someattraction at an opera house. In themeanwhile the scream of a whistle cameringing across the shadowy trees and theboy was troubled by the familiar sightsand sounds. The wet rails, the freight cars,and the brilliant poster reminded him ofthe cities he had turned his back uponsome time ago.

Then, though the daylight was rapidlygrowing clearer, a big blazing lamp broke

out from among the firs with a cloud ofsteam streaming behind it, and alocomotive and a row of clanging carsswept through the depot. The lights fromthe windows flashed into Frank's face,flickered upon the shack and rows ofstumps, and grew dim again, after whichthe din receded and came throbbing backfainter and fainter. As he listened to it, asudden fierce longing seized the boy. Hewanted to hear the clamor of the citiesagain, to see the big stores and thehurrying crowds. Almost a year hadelapsed since he had even seen a train,and a journey of two or three hours wouldtake him back to the stir and bustle ofcivilization away from the constantmonotonous toil with ax and saw in thelonely bush.

He wondered what his people were doingin Boston. In the winter season there werefestivities and gayety there, and he hadonce enjoyed them with his oldcompanions who had most likely forgottenhim. Some had gone into business, twowere at Harvard, and another had enteredthe army; but he stood, dressed in mirylong boots and old well-mended garmentsstill damp with salt water, in a littledesolate depot in the wilderness. Hefancied that he was justified in feelingrather sorry for himself.

Then with an effort he drove thesethoughts away. After all, his place was notin the cities. He had no money and therewas nobody to give him a fair start in life,while he admitted that it was very

doubtful that he had any talent forbusiness. He might, perhaps, become aclerk or something of the kind, but it oncemore occurred to him that he was betteroff in the bush. Indeed, though he scarcelyrealized this, the bush had already made astriking change in him, and it is possiblethat his eastern friends would have hadtrouble in recognizing him as the pale ladthey had sent away to Minneapolis. Hisface was bronzed and resolute, he wastaller, tougher, and broader around thechest, and he could now toil all day at atask which would once have broken himdown in a couple of hours. Then he startedas he noticed that Mr. Oliver was lookingat him with a smile.

"You seem to be thinking rather hard," the

rancher remarked.

"I was," Frank admitted hesitatingly. "Itwas the train that put the ideas into mymind."

"I fancied it might be something of thatdescription," said Mr. Oliver. "She'd soonhave taken you up to Seattle, andnowadays it's a very short run to Chicago,where you could get on to one of theAtlantic flyers. I suppose you feel thatyou'd like to make the journey?"

"I did—for a minute or two," Frankconfessed with an embarrassed smile."Then, of course, I realized that it wasimpossible."

Somewhat to his astonishment, Mr. Oliver

laid a hand upon his shoulder.

"The wish was very natural, but staywhere you are, my lad. There's more roomout here in the Western bush, and you'remaking progress. This is going to be agreat country, and you won't be sorry youcame out in a few more years."

"I'm not sorry now," Frank answeredsturdily, with a flush in his face.

Mr. Oliver turned away as the agentopened the door of his shack, and theywent into the little, untidy office.

"I want to send a message south," said Mr.Oliver, writing something on a form. "It'sa code address. I suppose I could get ananswer in an hour or so?"

"Oh, yes," said the agent. "They'll bebeginning to move about in Seattle now,and if the man's in his office there'll be nodelay. In the meanwhile they would giveyou a good breakfast at the hotel."

Mr. Oliver thanked him, and as they leftthe depot two men whom they had notnoticed hitherto met them. Mr. Oliverglanced at them sharply, but he did notspeak, and a few minutes later they satdown to an excellent meal in the primitivewooden hotel. When they had finished theproprietor strolled in and sat down for achat with them.

"Is there much going on about the place?"Mr. Oliver asked, offering him a cigar.

"Yes," said the hotelkeeper, accepting the

proffered cigar with alacrity, "we'vestruck quite a boom. There's a manclearing a lot of ground for a fruit ranchand putting up a smart frame house. Thenthey're cutting a couple of new trails. Theboys are making good wages and they'reall of them busy."

"I saw two men just now who didn't seemto have much to do," said Mr. Olivercarelessly, and Harry gave his companiona nudge with his elbow.

"They don't belong here," was the answer."One of them lives down the beach anddoes some fishing with his boat. The otherman came in from the South yesterday onthe cars, and I don't know what he's after. Itold him I could put him on to a job and hesaid he didn't want it."

"As they're together, he's probably goingin for fishing with the first one," Mr.Oliver suggested.

The hotelkeeper pursed his lips andlooked as if he were solving a hardproblem.

"It's a puzzle to me how Larry makes aliving. It's only now and then he sends alittle fish away, and I can't see what he'ddo with a partner." Then he changed thesubject. "You're thinking of buying land?"

"No," said Mr. Oliver, "I sailed over inmy boat to dispatch a wire. It was mucheasier than riding a long way to thenearest office now that the trails are soft."

"They're bad, sure," assented his

companion, and they continued to discussranching until Mr. Oliver finally rose andsaid he would walk across to the depot.The boys followed him a few pacesbehind. Harry addressed his companionwith a look of admiration for his father.

"I guess you noticed how dad found outabout those fellows without letting theman think he was curious?" he said.

Frank said that he had noticed it andadded:

"I wonder what the fellow came up fromthe South for?"

"That," said Harry significantly, "is apoint I expect dad's doing some hardthinking on just now."

They walked into the agent's office and satdown to wait as he told them that he hadas yet received no answer to the telegram.The door near which Frank sat stoodpartly open, and he noticed that the twomen were lounging close outside it. Hequietly touched Mr. Oliver's arm,indicating them with a glance. The rancherknitted his brows and presently spoke tothe agent.

"There are two men who seem to bewaiting for you outside," he said.

The agent walked across to the door.

"Back again, Larry!" he said impatiently."What's the matter now?"

"When's that fish box of mine coming

along?" the man inquired.

"I don't know," said the agent. "Nextfreight, most likely, if it's been deliveredto us at the other end."

"Won't you wire up the line about it?"

"No," said the agent. "If you'll put up thestamps I'll wire to the fish store you billedit to."

The man looked indignant. "I tell you it'sin the railroad's hands. Do you think I'venothing better to do than hang about thisdepot every time a freight comesthrough?" He paused a moment with hiseyes on the ground, then went on:"Anyway, now I'm on the spot I may aswell wait for the next one. She should be

along in about an hour. Won't you let mein?"

The telegraph instrument began to clickjust then and the agent turned toward himsharply.

"There's no room. You can wait at thehotel."

"Perhaps the message is about his box,"broke in the other man.

Frank glanced around at them. They weredressed like most of the bush choppers inrough working clothes and there wasnothing particularly noticeable in theirappearance, but he fancied that they hadsome reason for wishing to get into theoffice.

"No, sir," said the agent. "They don't wireabout the delivery of an empty box on thisroad. Get out! I want to shut the door."

Frank noticed that one of the loungers hadthrust his foot against the post, but theagent, seeming to lose his temper,slammed the door on it. The manwithdrew it with an exclamation, and theagent turned toward the instrument whichwas now clicking rapidly. He tapped ananswering signal, and then wrote upon astrip of paper which he handed Mr.Oliver. The latter read the message andhanded it to the boys.

"First route unsatisfactory secondpreferred," it ran. "Meet me nine to-nightEverett if possible."

Frank was puzzled, but he fancied thatHarry understood the message better thanhe did.

"Thanks," said Mr. Oliver, addressing theagent. "Your two friends outside seemeduncommonly anxious about that box."

"That's a fact," said the agent. "Larry wasworrying me about it before it was light. Idon't know the fellow who came alongwith him, but it struck me that he waslistening to the instrument as if heunderstood it, though he couldn't haveheard more than the depot call. Ofcourse," he added thoughtfully, "'most anyone who had worked on a railroad wouldknow the code, but I can't figure why theyshould make so much fuss about a boxthat's scarcely worth a dollar."

"It's curious," Mr. Oliver answeredindifferently. "You might lend me yourtrain schedule."

The agent gave him the company's timebill, which also included the coaststeamboat sailings, and Mr. Oliverwalked back with the boys to the hotel.There was nobody in the general roomwhen they reached it, and they sat downnear the stove.

"Now," he began, "as we have taken youinto our confidence and it's probable thatyou can help, you may as well understandthe situation thoroughly. The message was,of course, from Barclay, though it bears aclerk's name, and it means that Porteoushas opened the letter you left him. I fancyhe'll regret it, but that is by the way.

Barclay received the second letteruntampered with, and the rest is plainenough. The only question is how I'm tokeep the appointment without putting thefellows at the depot on my track."

"You believe they're in league with thesmugglers?" Frank inquired.

Mr. Oliver smiled. "It seems very likely.Here's a man who keeps a boat, and, asyou have heard, folks wonder how hemakes a living by his fishing. If the boat'smoderately fast you can imagine howuseful he would be to the smugglers bytaking messages from place to place andcommunicating with the schooner. Thenwe have another man who seems able toread the telegraph turning up and trying tohear Barclay's message."

"But how could they have learned that youexpected it?" Frank asked.

"I'm not sure. Porteous may havesuspected something and sent a mountedman off to wire one of the gang. Besides,the fellow who has the boat may havebeen across with her. It wouldn't be hardto surmise that I would wire from here,though they may have had a man watchingthe nearest office I could have reached byland on horseback." He paused a momentand looked at the boys gravely. "All thispoints to the fact that we're up against abig and remarkably well-organized gang."

Frank had no doubt that Mr. Oliver wasright, but he asked a question:

"Why did Barclay choose Everett when

it's so far from the field of theiroperations?"

"That's exactly why he fixed on it. Therewould be less probability of somebodyconnected with the gang recognizing us,and I've met him there already. The factthat he doesn't mention any particular hotelshould have told you that; but what wehave to consider is how I'm to get therewithout these fellows following me. It'simportant that I should be back at theranch as soon as possible, and you andHarry must manage to arrive there the firstthing to-morrow."

Frank understood the necessity for this.The nights were long, the bush was lonely,and Mr. Oliver's wooden house and barns,which had cost him a good deal of money,

would readily burn, while now, whenthere was only Jake to take care of them,they would be more or less at thesmugglers' mercy. Then Harry, who in themeanwhile, had been examining theschedule, looked up.

"I've an idea," he said. "There's a traingoes south in the afternoon, and asteamboat which calls at Everett goes upthe Sound this evening. Well, suppose weorder dinner here and start forBannington's a little before the cars comein. The steamboat would stop to pick upthere if she's signaled, and with thisbreeze we should get down shortly beforeshe passes."

Mr. Oliver turned to Frank.

"How does that strike you?" he asked.

"The trouble is that the other men wouldfollow us in their boat," the boy objected.Then a light dawned upon him as he sawthe twinkle in Mr. Oliver's eyes. "Youmean that's what Harry intended them todo?"

"Exactly!" Harry broke in with a grin."They raise brainy folks in Boston, andyou're getting hold. Those fellows will getafter us as soon as they can hoist sail ontheir boat and we'll give them a run for it.The point is that while they're followingus dad will be on the cars."

"But how is he going to elude them?"

"That," Harry admitted sagely, "wants

some thinking out."

They made their plans in the next half-hour, and some time after dinner was overwalked toward the beach. Nobody seemedto be following them, though they couldnot be sure of this since the trail woundabout through the bush, but when theyreached the canoe another boat which theyhad not noticed on arriving lay moored afew hundred yards away. They wereobliged to carry the canoe down somedistance over very rough stones, and onreaching the water's edge Mr. Oliver tooka quick glance about him.

"I'm afraid one plan's spoiled," he said.

The boys glanced back toward the trailand Frank saw two figures saunter out on

to the beach. Harry frowned as he glancedat them.

"You can't slip back into the bush withouttheir seeing you," he warned.

"No," said Mr. Oliver. "Still, I thinkthere's a means of getting over thedifficulty. Shove the canoe in. They'llhave to carry their boat down, and ourboat's lying nearer the head yonder thantheirs is."

Frank did not understand how the rancherintended to evade his pursuers and fanciedthat Harry was not much wiser. They hadsoon launched the canoe, however, andwere paddling off to the sloop, running themainsail up in haste. Then the boys set thejib as she drew out from the beach, and

Frank noticed that the other men werehoisting sail upon their boat as fast as theycould manage it. The sloop, however, wasalready some distance away from them,and it was not long before she picked up afreshening breeze. Lying well over to itshe gathered speed, and close to lee of herFrank saw a low, rocky head, down theface of which straggled stunted pines andunderbrush. He fancied that she would behidden from their pursuers when she hadsailed around the end of it, but on glancingback as they approached the corner hesaw that the other men had started afterthem. They were three or four minutesbehind, but he had no idea yet how Mr.Oliver meant to elude them. He was stillwondering about it when the rancherspoke to him.

"Get hold of the canoe painter," heordered. "The moment we're around thecorner we'll haul her up and you'll put meashore. You'll have to be smart about it,because you must be back on board beforethe other boat rounds the head."

Harry had already taken the helm, and thesloop was sailing very fast, with the canoelurching and splashing over the short seasastern of her. They broke in a broad fringeof foam upon the stony beach thirty orforty yards to lee, and as the boat swepton the bay behind closed in and theseaward face of the cliff opened outahead. Frank could still see the boatastern, but as he stood in the well with hishands clenched upon a rope he knew thatin another moment the rocks would shut

her out. Then, sure enough, she suddenlyvanished, and shortly afterward he heardMr. Oliver's voice.

"Haul!" he shouted.

Harry flung loose the mainsheet, but theboat did not quicken her speedimmediately, and Frank found itdesperately hard to drag up the canoe,though Mr. Oliver had seized the ropebehind him. Haste was, however,necessary, if the rancher was to slip backto the depot unsuspected. At last the canoeran alongside with a bang and Mr. Oliverdropped on board, while Frank nearlyupset her as he followed him. Each ofthem seized a paddle and the boy had amomentary glimpse of the sloop rollingwith her slackened mainsail thrashing to

and fro, while Harry struggled to haul thejib to weather. After that he looked aheadand swung his paddle, and as the breezewas blowing on to the beach a few quickstrokes drove them in through thesplashing surf. She struck the stonesviolently, for they had no time to becareful, and Mr. Oliver jumped ashore,running into the water to thrust her out.Frank contrived to twist her around,though it taxed all his strength, after whichhe hazarded a single glance behind him.Mr. Oliver had disappeared among theseveral masses of fallen rock and clumpsof small growth which were scatteredabout the slope.

So far the plan had succeeded, but Frankhad still to reach the sloop, which was a

different matter from paddling ashore.There was a fresh breeze ahead of himand a little splashing sea heaved up thecanoe's bows and checked her speed. Inaddition to this, it is a rather difficult thingto keep a canoe on a straight course with asingle-ended paddle, which can only bedipped on the one side, and in order to doso one must give the blade a back twist,which retards the craft unless it isskillfully managed. Frank, who hadhitherto practiced it only in smooth water,found that the bows would blow around inspite of him. He grew hot and breathless,and though he set his lips and strung up hismuscles he made very little progress.

"Paddle!" shouted Harry, who had beenwatching his maneuvers. "Shove her

through it! Can't you get a move on? I can'trun in any nearer without getting herashore."

Frank made another desperate attempt, buta splashing sea broke about the bows,driving the canoe off her course again, andwhile he savagely swung the paddle Harrysurveyed him contemptuously.

"Culcha!" he jeered. "Guess you loadedthat up in Boston, but what you want issand. Can't you get a bit of a hustle on?You're sure born played-out back East."

Frank felt a little more blood surge intohis hot face. This was more than he feltinclined to stand from any Westerner ofhis own weight, but it was clear that hecould not rebuke his reviler fittingly until

he reached the sloop and the veinsswelled up on his forehead as he furiouslyplied the paddle. Once more a sea brokeabout the bows and this time part of itsplashed in, while as he tried the back-feather stroke the canoe lurched and beganto swing around in spite of his redoubledefforts. Harry spread out one handresignedly.

"Well," he said, "it's our own fault forletting you into the canoe. The trouble wasyou couldn't be trusted alone with thesloop either. Pshaw! We've no use forfolks of your kind in this country."

This was intolerable, because part of itwas true, and Frank felt his heart thumpingpainfully. But he made a last effort, andpanting, straining, taxing every muscle to

the utmost, he drove the canoe ahead, andeventually managed to grasp the sloop'slee rail. He could not speak, and as hebreathlessly crawled on board Harrysnatched the rope from him and made itfast.

"Trim that jibsheet over," he commanded.

Frank obeyed him and when they hauledon the mainsheet the sloop once moregathered speed, while Frank glancingastern saw a strip of slanted sail appeararound the corner of the head. Then heglanced ashore, and though he saw no signof Mr. Oliver the slope to the beach wasnot remarkably steep and he fancied thatthe rancher would not have much troublein ascending it.

CHAPTER XXIVA FAST RUN

After they had trimmed sail Frank sat stillfor a while to recover his breath and, ifpossible, his composure. He felt that itwas necessary to demand an explanationfrom his companion. Though they had onceor twice had a difference of opinion, thiswas the first time that Harry had beeninsulting, and Frank found it impossible topass over what he had said. When he feltable to speak clearly he looked hiscompanion in the eyes.

"Now," he began, "I'll admit that you can

shoot and sail a boat rather better than Ican, but that doesn't entitle you to talk asyou did just now."

"I don't know if it matters, but I've a notionthat I did shout," Harry answered calmly.

"That only makes it worse," Frank burstout warmly. "You couldn't call it shoutingeither. I once heard a coyote on theprairie, and it had a much sweeter voicethan you have."

To his astonishment, Harry grinned.

"Oh, well," he said, "but won't you getdown under the mainboom before you goon? I don't want those fellows astern tosee there are only two of us on board thesloop."

Frank did as he suggested, whereuponHarry waved his hand and smiledgraciously.

"Now," he added, "you can go ahead."

Frank found it harder than he hadexpected. His anger was beginning toevaporate and Harry's good humor wasembarrassing. Still, he made anothereffort.

"In the first place," he resumed, "there arejust as smart and capable folks inMassachusetts as there are anywhereelse."

"That's quite right," assented Harry. "Idon't see why there shouldn't be, but Isuppose you're not through yet. You want

to call me down?"

"When you say things of that kind—you—" Frank stammered, and stopped whenhe observed his companion still smiling.

"Sure!" said Harry, "I ought to be poundedwith the boathook if I'd meant them."

Frank gazed at him in bewilderment. "Youdidn't mean them?"

"No," said Harry. "Not a word of it."

"Then why did you say them?"

"Well," replied his friend, "that's areasonable question. Now it was mightyimportant that you should get alongsidebefore our friends astern came into sight,and though you weren't making very much

progress it seemed to me you were doingall you knew."

"I was," Frank assured him.

"Still, I had an idea that if I could makeyou jumping mad you might do a littlemore. It's hard to tell what you're capableof until you're real savage, and I thoughtI'd whip you up a bit where you were mostlikely to feel it."

Frank's indignation vanished, and hechanged the subject with a laugh.

"Do you think those fellows suspectedanything?" he asked.

"No," said Harry. "They were too busygetting sail on her to notice exactly howfar ahead we were when we ran out of the

bay, and it will probably only strike themthat they're not quite so far astern as theyexpected. All we have to do now is tolead them along toward Bannington's. I'drather keep them sailing than have themprowling round the depot asking questionsand, perhaps, sending telegrams, and I'vea notion we can leave them when we like.She's drawing away from them now andwe've only a small jib on her."

His surmise proved correct, for an hourlater the other boat had diminished to adusky patch of sail far astern. Dusk sooncommenced to fall and the wind seemed tobe freshening, but as they swept around arocky point Harry changed his course andtold Frank to make a stout rope fast to thebucket and pitch it over.

"It will hold her back and let the otherfellows come up," he said with a grin."They'll probably figure their boat's fasterin any weight of wind, and we don't wantto run out of sight of them."

It grew dark and for a while the sky wasbarred with heavy clouds until the moonbroke out, when they saw the pursuingcraft sweeping up close astern in the midstof a blaze of silvery radiance. She hadnow, however, a mass of canvas swungout on either side of her, and Frankwondered what sail she was carrying.

"They've boomed out a jib as aspinnaker," Harry explained. "I don't seewhy we shouldn't do the same,particularly as it will make them keeneron following us to Bannington's. One of

them means to go south with the steamer ifdad gets on to her. Now we'll heave inthat bucket, and when it's done they'll opentheir eyes."

It was not easy to haul in the bucket.Indeed, once or twice it was nearly tornaway from them, but at length theyaccomplished the task.

"It's awkward running a boat with aspinnaker unless you have a crew,"remarked Harry with a somewhat puzzledlook. "Still, I feel we ought to give thosefellows a run for their trouble and I can'tget clear of them with only the mainsaildrawing. A jib set in the ordinary way isno use when you're before the wind."

The other boat had drawn almost level

with them and came surging along someforty yards away, rising and falling, withthe foam piled up about her bows, and agreat spread of canvas that swung up anddown as she rolled on either side.

"Hello!" shouted Harry. "Where are yougoing?"

"North," was the laconic answer.

Harry chuckled as he turned to Frank."Well, as dad will be in Everett by thistime, I don't see why they shouldn't comealong with us as far as they like, but we'lllet them draw ahead before we get up thespinnaker. I'd rather they didn't notice Ihad to set it alone."

The other boat forged past them, and she

was growing dim ahead when Harrypulled out a bundle of canvas frombeneath the side deck.

"It's an extra big jib we carry in lightwinds, but it makes a good spinnaker," hesaid. "You'll have to keep her straightbefore the wind, because it's a mightyawkward thing to set."

Frank took the helm and watched hiscompanion as he shook the big sail out allover the boat, after which he led a ropefastened to one corner of it through ablock at the end of a long spar that layalong the deck. He thrust this out over herside and made its inner end fast to the footof the mast.

"A spinnaker boom always goes forward

of the shrouds and you lead the guy aftoutside them," he said. "Get hold of it andstick fast. It's easy so far, but in a minutethe circus will begin. You want two pairsof hands to set a spinnaker in a breeze ofwind."

Frank glanced at the short seas whichsurged by, glittering in the moonlightflecked with wisps of snowy froth, and itstruck him by the way the boat swung overthem with the foam boiling about her thatshe was carrying sufficient canvas in hermainsail. Then Harry, calling to him tomind his steering, hauled on a halliard anda mass of thrashing canvas rose up themast. It blew out like a half-filled balloon,lifting up the boom, which was run out onthe opposite side to the mainsail, and

seemed bent on soaring skyward over themasthead. After that the boom swungforward with a crash, the mast strainedand rattled, and Frank feared that the greatloose sail would tear it out of the boat. Hesaw Harry lifted off his feet and flungupon the deck, after which the forwardpart of the boat was swept by flying ropesand billowy folds of canvas, among whichhis companion seemed to be futilelycrawling to and fro. Presently his voicereached Frank hoarse and breathless.

"Haul on the guy!" he cried. "She'll pitchme over or whip the mast out if this goeson."

Frank dragged at the rope with all hismight, but he could not get an inch of it in,and he dared not take his right hand off the

tiller for fear of bringing the bigmainboom over upon the spinnaker, whichwould probably have caused acatastrophe. Indeed, he fancied that onewas inevitable already, since it seemedimpossible that Harry could control thebig loose sail which was now wildlyhurling itself aloft.

"I can't move it!" he shouted.

Harry came aft with a jump and graspedthe guy.

"Now," he said, "together! Get both handsupon it. Hold the tiller with your elbow."

For the next half minute there was afurious struggle, and as the boom went upagain Frank felt that they were beaten. His

companion, however, hung on desperately,panting hard, and by degrees the boomswung down and back across the boat andthe sail flattened out.

"Make fast!" cried Harry breathlessly. "Ican manage the sheet."

He floundered forward to the foot of themast, and when he came back thespinnaker was drawing steadily and thesloop had changed her mode of progress.She no longer rolled viciously or screwedup to windward as she lifted on a sea, butswayed from side to side with a smoothand easy swing, and Frank could steer herwith a touch upon the tiller. In spite ofthat, steering was ticklish work, for themainboom and the spinnaker boom wentup and came down until they raked the

glittering brine alternately, and Frankrealized that it would be singularly easy tobring one crashing over upon the other.There was no doubt that the boat wassailing very fast, and he hazarded oneswift glance over his shoulder at thecanoe. She was surging along astern, hoveup with her forward half out of the water,and a seething mass of foam hiding the restof her. Harry, however, glanced forwardsomewhat anxiously.

"That boom's lifting too much," he said."One of us ought to sit on it. Do you feelable to steer her?"

Frank said that he believed he couldmanage it.

"Well," said Harry, "if you jibe either sail

across you'll either pitch me in or breakmy leg, even if you don't roll the boatover. Sing out the moment you feel hergetting too hard upon the helm."

Scrambling forward, he crawled out alongthe spinnaker boom, to which he clungprecariously, lifted up high one momentand the next swung down until his feetwere just above the foam. Sometimes theysplashed in, and Frank, bracing himselfuntil every nerve was strung up, felthorribly uneasy. In spite of that, the wildrush through the glittering water whichboiled about the boat was wonderfullyexhilarating. She seemed a mass ofstraining sail which swayed in themoonlight above an insignificant strip ofhull half buried in snowy foam. Over her

black mainsail peak dim wisps of cloudswent streaming by, and from all aroundthere was a tumult of stirring sound—theclamor at the bows, the swish of water asthe canoe came charging up to her, and thesplash of tumbling seas. Everything ahead,however, was hidden by the sail, and hewas wondering where the other boat waswhen Harry called to him.

"Slack the guy a foot or two and let hercome up a little. Don't let it get the run ofyou or you'll pitch me in."

Frank was very cautious as he eased therope out around a cleat, after which, whenthe spinnaker boom had drawn forward,he found that he could luff the boat. Whenshe had swerved from her course a triflehe could see the other boat close ahead,

and it gave him some idea how fast bothcraft were traveling. She seemed nothingbut sail. Indeed, except for the torn-uptrack of foam that marked her passage, shelooked much less like a boat than somewonderful phantom thing flying at anastonishing speed across the sea. Swiftlyas she sped, however, there was no doubtthat the sloop was creeping up on her, andFrank felt himself quivering all through asthe distance between them lessened yardby yard. Then suddenly the contour of hercanvas changed and she swung aroundfrom leeward across the sloop's bows.Frank's heart gave a sudden leap as hewondered what he must do and his nervealmost deserted him, until Harry calledagain.

"More guy!" he sang out. "They're trying toluff us. We must keep their weather."

Although fearful that it might overpowerhim, Frank slacked the guy out inch byinch, and as the sloop came up a littlefarther he saw the whole of the other boatagain. The sloop's bowsprit was levelwith her quarter. She was scarcely adozen yards away, leaping, plunging,swaying through a flung-up mass of foam,but they were steadily drawing up withher, and the boy could have shouted in thefierce excitement of the moment. Two orthree minutes later they were clear ahead.He could no longer see the other boat, andhe dared not risk a glance back at her.Indeed, it was a relief to him when Harrycame scrambling aft.

"We'll get that guy in again," he said."Unless something gives out, those folkswon't catch us up."

They had a desperate struggle with theguy, but Harry laughed gayly when theyhad made it fast.

"They'll follow us on to Bannington's,sure," he said. "We should be there in halfan hour, and I don't mind allowing that I'llbe glad to get some of this sail off her."

After a while a black bank of cloudspread across the moon, and Frankwondered anxiously how much of the halfhour had gone. He had now only the pullon the tiller to guide him as they drove onfuriously, and the strain of concentratingall his faculties on his task was beginning

to tell on his strength. Once or twice heimagined that he came perilously near tobringing the mainboom over, and hewould have called Harry to the helm if hehad felt certain that he could cling to theslender lurching spar as well as hiscomrade could. He was getting nervous,and the seething rush of water past theboat was becoming bewildering.

At length, however, he made out a darkand hazy mass over the edge of themainsail, which he supposed was land,and in another few minutes a blinking lightappeared. He called to Harry, who merelytwisted himself around on the boom withthe object of looking out beneath the sailand then told him to keep her heading asshe was. After that the land rose rapidly,

growing blacker, and a second lightappeared. This was closer to them andFrank, thinking he saw it move, noticed agreen blink beneath it.

Presently both lights disappeared behindthe sail, and some minutes later Frankalmost let go the tiller as the deep blast ofa steamer's whistle rang out close ahead.On the instant Harry swung himself downfrom the boom.

"Let go your guy!" he shouted. "Downhelm; get the mainsheet in!"

Frank could never clearly remember allthat followed in the next two or threeminutes during which he was desperatelybusy. He let the spinnaker guy run, and thebig sail which heaved up the spar beneath

it swung wildly forward. Then he shoveddown his helm, and the mainboom slashedfuriously as the boat came up toward thewind. The sheet blocks seemed to bebanging everywhere about him as hehauled at the rope, and he could hearnothing but the savage thrashing ofloosened canvas. Harry was strugglingforward with a mass of billowing sail thatthreatened to sweep him off the narrowdeck, while flying ropes whipped abouthim. Presently, out of the din, there roseanother sonorous blast of the steamer'swhistle.

The next moment Frank saw her, heading,it seemed, straight for them, blazing withtiers of lights, and in almost nervelesshaste he pulled up his tiller. The bolt fell

off, he saw Harry flung down with thespinnaker rolling about him, and hescarcely dared to breathe as the rows oflights ahead lengthened and the blackwedge of the steamer's bows faded fromhis sight. It was now her side he wasgazing at, and it was evident that she wasswinging around. In less than anotherminute she had forged past them, andleaving the helm he scrambled forward toaid his companion. For a moment they hada brief struggle with flying ropes andbillowing sail, and then they clamberedback into the well, where Frank sat downwith a gasp of fervent satisfaction.

"Well," he panted, "I'm glad that's over,and you had better take the helm. I've hadenough."

Harry glanced toward the steamer, whichwas growing less distinct.

"A close call!" he remarked. "It looked asif she was going slap over us. I couldn'tsee her sooner because of the sail. She'srunning into Bannington's."

They heard her whistle a little later, butthey were then close in with a shadowypoint of land, and looking back Frankmade out a faint blur on the water farbehind them which he knew must be theother boat. When he pointed it out Harrylaughed.

"They can't see us against the land, but I'vean idea they'll be in soon enough to learnthe steamer didn't pick one of us up," hesaid. "That will start them wondering why

we drove her so hard and where we'vegone. Now you had better get the stovelighted and the supper on."

CHAPTER XXVTHE UNITED STATES

MAIL

The boys reached the ranch the nextmorning, and Mr. Oliver, who followedby a different route a couple of days later,seemed satisfied with the result of hisjourney.

"If the dope men leave us alone for thenext three weeks we're not likely to betroubled with them afterward," he said."Barclay expects very shortly to be readyfor what he calls his coup."

"I suppose he didn't mention exactly whenhe would bring it off?" Harry remarked.

"No," said Mr. Oliver with a laugh."Barclay usually waits until he's certainbefore he moves, and he's not addicted tospoiling things by haste. In the meanwhileyou may as well keep your eyes sharplyopen."

"Won't it be awkward to communicatewith him if you have to go to Bannington'severy time you mail a letter?" Frankasked.

"That's a point which naturally occurred tome," Mr. Oliver answered. "There are,however, reasons for believing thatBarclay will be able to get over thedifficulty."

He said nothing further on the subject, butit cropped up again one evening when Mr.Webster arrived at the ranch in time forsupper. He told them that he had finishedthe bridge he had gone away to build, andwhen they sat about the stove after themeal was over he turned to Mr. Oliver.

"Have you heard that Porteous has beenfired out of the store and they've got a mandown from Tacoma?" he asked.

"No," replied Mr. Oliver indifferently.

"Anyway, you don't seem muchastonished."

Mr. Oliver smiled at this. "I can't say I am.What was the trouble?"

"It's generally believed Porteous was

tampering with the mails, and that bringsup another thing I want to mention. I'mpuzzled about it as well as pleased."

Harry, unobserved by Mr. Webster,grinned at Frank, looking solemn again ashis father caught his eye.

"Well?" said the latter politely.

"It's just this," said Mr. Webster. "When Icame through the settlement this morningthe man who fills Porteous's place gaveme a letter. It requested me to send in aformal application if I was open to havemy place made a postoffice and carry themails for this and the Carthew district.They don't pay one very much, but it onlymeans a journey once a week."

"Then what are you puzzled at?"

"Well," said Mr. Webster, his eyes bentthoughtfully on the fire, "you and theCarthew folks tried to have a mail carrierappointed some time ago, and you heardthat the authorities were considering yourrepresentations. I guess that's about allthey did. They're great on considering, andas a rule they don't get much further. Itstrikes me as curious that they should giveyou the postoffice now, considering thatthey wouldn't do it when you worriedthem for it. The next point is that althoughI applied the other time I don't knowanybody in office or any political bosswho would speak for me."

Frank noticed the smile broaden onHarry's face, but Mr. Webster was intently

watching Mr. Oliver, who answeredcarelessly.

"It's a poor job, one that only a local mancould undertake, and I don't know any oneelse who wants it," he said. "What are yougoing to do about it?"

"Send in the application right away. That'spartly what brought me over. I'll have toget you and two of the boys at Carthew tovouch for me."

"There'll be no trouble about that," Mr.Oliver assured him, after which theychanged the conversation. Before Mr.Webster went away he asked the boys tospend a day or two with him and do somehunting.

Mr. Oliver let them go at the end of theweek, but he said that they had better meetMr. Webster at the settlement where MissOliver wanted them to leave an order forsome groceries, and that if any letters hadarrived for him one of them must bringthem across to the ranch. They reached thesettlement Saturday evening, soon after theweekly mail had come in. When they hadfinished their supper at the store Mr.Webster bundled his mails promiscuouslyinto a flour bag, which he fastened uponhis shoulders with a couple of straps.

"There seems to be quite a lot of letters,"remarked Harry as he lifted up the bag.

Mr. Webster frowned. "Letters!" hegrowled. "Most of the blamed stuff'sgroceries. It strikes me I'm going to earn

my dollars. The boys who run short ofsugar or yeast powder or any truck of thatkind expect me to pack it out. Give thething a heave up. There's the corner of ameat can working into my ribs."

They set out shortly afterward, followinga very bad trail driven like a tunnelthrough the bush, and when they had gonea mile or two Mr. Webster lighted alantern which he gave to Frank.

"Hold it up and look about," he said. "It'ssomewhere round here Jardine has hisletter box nailed up on a tree."

Frank presently discovered an emptypowder keg fixed to a big fir, and Mr.Webster, wriggling out of the straps,dropped the bag with a thud. As it

happened, it descended in a patch of mud.

"Hold the light so I can see to sort thistruck," he said, and plunged his hand intothe bag. It was white when he brought itout.

"Something's got adrift," he commented."They never can tie a package right in thestore."

With some difficulty he at last found theletters, though this necessitated hisspreading out most of the rest and thegroceries on the wet soil. Then hedeposited those that belonged to Jardine inthe keg and went on again.

Dense darkness filled the narrow rift inthe bush and the feeble rays of the lantern

were more bewildering than useful, butthey covered another two miles beforethey stopped at a second keg, whenWebster discovered that a couple ofletters he fished out were stuck togetherwith half-melted sugar. He tore them apartand rubbed them clean upon his trousers,smearing out the address as he did so.

"It's lucky I looked at them first, because Icouldn't tell whose they are now," he said."Anyway, as I guess the stuff hasn't hadtime to get inside, Steve will know they'rehis when he opens them." He raised thebag a little and examined it. "This thing'ssurely wet."

"I expect it is," said Harry. "The last timeyou stopped you dumped it in the mud.Didn't they give you some sugar for this

place at the store?"

"Why, yes," said Mr. Webster. "I wasforgetting it. Hold the lantern lower,Frank, while I look for it."

He pulled the flour bag wider open andpresently produced a big paper packagewhich seemed to have lost its shape.

"Half the stuff's run out," he added. "That'swhat has been mussing up the mail. Pitchthis truck out and we'll skip the rest of thesugar out of the bottom of the bag."

It took them some time to deposit thevarious bundles of letters and packetsamong the wineberry bushes beside thetrail, after which Mr. Webster shook apound or two of loose wet sugar into the

opened package. It appeared to be mixedwith flour and other substances, and Harrysmiled as he glanced at it.

"It's off its color," he remarked.

"That," said Mr. Webster, "will serveSteve right and save me trouble. The nexttime he wants sugar he'll walk into thesettlement and pack it out himself. Whenyou've put that truck back the mail will goahead."

They threw the things back into the bag,but while they were engaged in this taskHarry held up a bundle of letters to thelight and separated two of them from therest.

"These are dad's," he mused. "It strikes me

they'd be safer in my pocket."

They saw no more powder kegs, but byand by they stopped at a ranch where theydelivered a newspaper and a pound ofcoffee, and then plodded on in thickdarkness which was only intensified bythe patch of uncertain radiance thatflickered upon the trail a yard or two infront of them. Even this failed thempresently when Frank fell and dropped thelantern. It went out, and neither he norHarry, who struck a match, could open it.

"I'm afraid I've bent the catch," said Frank.

"It's not going to matter much," Mr.Webster answered. "I guess we can fix thething when we reach my place, and thereisn't another ranch until we come to it."

They trudged along in silence for anotherhour. The trail seemed darker than ever,and it was oppressively still. Even thegreat trunks a few yards away wereinvisible, and once or twice Frank walkedinto the bushes that clustered among them.At last, however, the sound of runningwater came out of the gloom and grewlouder until the boy fancied that there mustbe a rapid creek somewhere below them.Neither he nor Harry had been that waybefore. As they expected to get someshooting, he was carrying the double gun,which was beginning to feel heavy, whileHarry had brought a rifle. When the roarof water had grown so loud that they couldscarcely hear each other's footsteps, Mr.Webster stopped.

"There's an awkward place close ahead,and you had better let me go in front," hewarned. "Keep a few yards behind andclose to the bank on your left side. Thetrail goes down a gulch, and there's asteep drop to the creek."

He moved on until the boys could just seehis black and shadowy figure. The hollowbeneath them was filled with impenetrablegloom, and they went down cautiously,trying to follow him and feeling with theirfeet for the edge of the bank on one hand.They had gone some little way when Mr.Webster seemed to stagger and suddenlydisappear. Then there was a crash amidstthe underbrush, a sound which might havebeen made by a heavy body rolling downa slope, and a hoarse cry which was

almost drowned by the clamor of thecreek.

The boys stopped abruptly, uncertain whatto do. Mr. Webster had evidently fallendown the declivity, but they could not tellwhere he was in the darkness, or if it waspossible to reach him. Frank fancied thatif he once moved out from the bank hewould probably step over a ledge andplunge down into the creek, which, it wasevident, would be of no service to Mr.Webster. By and by he was sincerely gladto hear a sound below him which seemedto indicate that the man was endeavoringto clamber up again. On recalling theincident afterward, he decided that theyhad stood waiting about a quarter of aminute.

"We must get down somehow," he said toHarry.

His companion did not answer, butgripped his arm warningly. Then toFrank's astonishment another sound roseup somewhere in front of them and a voicefollowed it.

"Is that you, Webster?" it asked.

"Sure!" was the answer. "I've pitched rightdown the gulch."

Frank would have scrambled forward, butHarry held him back.

"Hold on!" he said softly. "He doesn'tseem hurt."

A crackling and snapping below them

suggested that somebody was cautiouslyscrambling through the undergrowthtoward Mr. Webster, while the latter wasevidently crawling up the ascent. Frankwondered why Harry had restrained himuntil a blaze of light suddenly broke out. Itshowed a very steep bank with clumps ofbrush scattered about it dropping to afoaming creek, Mr. Webster holding on bythe stem of a stunted pine, with the flourbag lying some distance higher up, andanother figure moving toward him. A thirdman stood on the brink of the declivityholding a blazing pineknot. Where theboys stood, however, there was deepshadow.

Mr. Webster, so far as Frank could makeout, was gazing at the man nearest him in

astonishment.

"Well," he said sharply, "what do youwant?"

"The mail," answered the other. "Stopright where you are!"

Then the meaning of the situation dawnedon Frank. At that moment he saw Mr.Webster scramble forward to intercept theman who was making for the bag. Thelatter, however, was nearer it, and he hadcrept almost up to it while Mr. Websterwas still several yards away. Without amoment's hesitation, Frank sprang out intothe flickering light.

"Keep back!" he shouted. "Don't touch thatbag!"

The radiance fell upon the barrel of hisgun, and the next moment Harry emergedfrom the gloom with his rifle thrustforward. They decided afterward that thestrangers could only have seen twoindistinct figures with weapons in theirhands and that there was nothing toindicate that they were not grown men.

"Hold him up!" shouted Mr. Webster,scrambling forward furiously as if to seizethe man.

The latter stooped swiftly and made agrab at the bag as Frank pitched up hisgun, though he kept the muzzle of it turneda little from the bent figure, but just thenHarry's rifle flashed behind him and therewas sudden darkness as the light fell intoa thicket. Confused sounds followed the

detonation, but it became evident to Frank,now quivering with excitement, that threeseparate persons were smashing throughscrubby undergrowth as fast as they couldmanage. Then one of them stopped whilethe rest went on.

"Have you got the bag?" cried Harry.

"It's in my hand," said Mr. Webster.

They heard him floundering toward them,while the other sounds grew fainter, untilhe emerged from the gloom close besideFrank and threw the bag at his feet.

"Give me your gun," he said shortly. "Stopwhere you are!"

He disappeared again, but in anothermoment they saw him raking in a clump of

brush from which a pale light stillflickered, after which he came backtoward them with something blazingfeebly in his hand.

"Bring the bag, and be careful how youwalk," he said.

When they joined him he was stoopingover a short strip of wire stretched acrossthe trail about a foot above the ground,holding the pineknot so that the light fellupon it.

"I guess that's the reason I fell down," hesaid. "You didn't touch that fellow,Harry."

"I didn't mean to," was the answer. "Iwanted to scare him off, and I was mighty

thankful when I saw I'd done it."

"Well," said Mr. Webster, "I expect thatwas wiser. It would have made thingsworse for your father if you'd pluggedhim. Anyway, they've cleared and we mayas well get on."

"Aren't you hurt?" Frank inquired.

"There's a nasty rip on my leg and my armfeels mighty sore, but that's all thedamage. Seems to me I haven't much tocomplain of, considering how far I fell."

He flung the pineknot down into the ravineas he turned away, and they had crossedthe creek and were ascending the otherside before one of them spoke again.

"Did you recognize either of the men?"

Harry inquired.

"No," said Mr. Webster. "On the whole Idon't know that I'd want to do it, thoughI'm kind of sorry I didn't get my handsupon the nearest fellow. It was those twoletters for your father he was after."

"Yes," said Harry gravely, "you're right inthat."

The trail got narrower presently and whenthe boys fell a little behind Harry laid ahand on Frank's arm.

"I'm not sure that dad and Barclay wouldhave had Webster made mail carrier ifthey had expected this," he whispered."There's no doubt the dope men aregrowing bolder."

CHAPTER XXVIMR. BARCLAY LAYS HIS

PLANS

It appeared that one of the letters whichHarry had secured was from Mr. Barclay,and shortly after the boys got back to theranch Mr. Oliver sent them off toBannington's with the sloop. Mr. Barclay,he said, was expected down by the nextsteamer and they must be there in time totake him off. It proved to be an uneventfultrip and they returned to the cove withtheir passenger just as a gloomy day wasdying out. Mr. Oliver was shut up with his

guest for an hour after supper that night,but at length he called the boys into hisroom, where Mr. Barclay lay in a bigchair with a cigar in his hand. He lookedup with a smile when they came in.

"No doubt you'll be pleased to hear thatwe expect to round up your dope-runningfriends before the week is out," he said."Anyway, I fancy it was a relief to myhost."

"There's no doubt on that point," Mr.Oliver assured him. "I don't mindadmitting that the suspense and theuncertainty as to what they might do wereworrying me rather badly."

Frank was surprised to hear it, for therancher had certainly shown no sign of

uneasiness.

"You mean you're going to break up thegang once for all and corral the whole ofthem?" he asked.

"Something like that," answered Mr.Barclay lazily. "If there's no hitch in theproceedings, I don't expect many of themwill be left at large when our traps aresprung, though the affair will have to bemanaged with a good deal of caution."

Harry smiled. "There oughtn't to be anyhitch. You have been a mighty long whilefixing up the thing."

"That remark," said Mr. Barclay, "is tosome extent justified. Over in Europe theysay 'slow and sure,' though I don't suppose

it's a maxim that's likely to appeal toyoung America. We'll paraphrase it intothis form: 'Don't move until you knowexactly what you mean to do and howyou're going to set about it, and then get atit like a battering ram.'"

"A battering ram must have been a clumsy,old-time contrivance," Harry objected.

"There are reasons for believing it couldstrike very hard," said his father with asmile.

"It would naturally take a long while towork the thing out," Frank broke in,addressing Mr. Barclay.

"It did," the little, stout man assented. "Wehad to get hold of a clue here, and another

there, and follow them up as far aspossible without giving anybody the leastidea what we were after. It might havebeen more difficult if one hadn't beenpurposely placed in our hands a weekago."

"Somebody has been giving the gangaway?" asked Frank.

"That doesn't quite describe it," Mr.Barclay answered. "To be precise,somebody has sold them. It appears thatone man a little smarter than the restdiscovered that the gang was beingwatched. That scared him, and, as ithappened, he'd had a difference of opinionwith the bosses about the share he claimedto be entitled to. He didn't point hissuspicions out to them, but when, as he

said, they couldn't be induced to do thesquare thing he came along to one of mysubordinates, who sent him to me. I'm notsure that I'd have got much information outof him then if I hadn't been able toconvince him that he and his partners werealready more or less in my hands."

Frank was impressed by what he hadheard. Indeed, he was conscious that hewas half afraid of the man who sprawledlazily in his chair smiling at him. Heappeared so easy-going and he hadbantered Harry so good-humoredly, but allthe time he had been following up thesmugglers' trail with a deadly unwaveringpatience and a keenness which missed thesignificance of no clue, however small.Now when at last the time for action had

come the boy felt that he would strike inthe swiftest and most effective manner.

"If there's any small part you can give us—" he said hesitatingly.

"There is," said Mr. Barclay, to thedelight of Frank and his companion. "Itappears that they intend to land a parcel ofdope and some Chinamen at a place downthe Straits of Fuca. It will be done at night—the moon will be only in her firstquarter next week—and the schooner willstand out to the westward, keeping clearof the traffic to wait for the next eveningbefore going on to the place where she's tomake another call. The men and the dopewill be seized soon after they're putashore without anybody on board thevessel being the wiser if our plans work

out right, but it's important that we shouldknow as soon as possible if anything hasgone wrong and it will be your business tobring me on a message. We'll have a smallsteamer and a posse hidden ready at thisend, and when the schooner runs in twonights later she'll fall into our hands withthe rest of the gang, who'll be waiting forwhat she brings."

Frank looked at Mr. Oliver, who noddedhis consent.

"Yes," he said, "I've promised to let yougo, though in this case you'll have to takeJake along."

Then Mr. Barclay spread out a chart uponthe table and pointed first to an inletwhich appeared to lie at some distance

from any settlement.

"You'll run in here in the dark and lieclose in with the beach until you're hailedby a mounted messenger, which willprobably be early on the followingmorning. When he has given you hismessage you must manage to deliver it tome here"—he laid his finger on anotherspot on the chart—"at the latest by thesecond evening following. That'simportant, as it's impossible for me to getthe news by mail or wire."

He gave them some further instructions,and half an hour had slipped by before heseemed satisfied that they knew exactlywhat they were to do; then he nodded.

"I think you've got it right," he said. "The

great thing is not to be seen if you can helpit, and if it's possible you must only run inat either place in the dark."

The boys spent the next two days in a stateof eager anticipation, which, however,became much less marked when onelowering afternoon after a long, cold sailthey beat the sloop out to the westwarddown the Straits of Fuca. They had keptwatch alternately with Jake during theprevious night, throughout most of which ithad rained hard, and now Frank, whoadmitted to himself that he had had enoughsailing for a while, was feeling ratherlimp and weary. He sat beneath thecoaming, as far as he could get out of thebitter wind. When at last he raised hishead to look about him, he saw nothing

very cheerful in the prospect before him.

The light was dim, the low gray sky towindward looked hard and threatening,and a long gray blur which he supposed tobe land rose up indistinctly over the porthand. Ahead dingy, formless slopes ofwater heaved themselves up slowly oneafter another in dreary succession. Theywere ridged and wrinkled here and there,and now and then a little wisp of whiteappeared on one of them, for the longswell of the Pacific was working in. Thebreeze was very moderate as yet, and eachtime the sloop sluggishly swung up herbows and lurched over one of theundulations her mainboom jerked andlifted amidst a harsh clatter of blocks,while the water inside her went swishing

to and fro. The noise presently arousedJake, who was sitting silently at the helm.

"One of you had better get her pumpedout," he said. "You haven't done it sincewe started, and you won't find it easy byand by."

"It doesn't look nice up yonder," saidHarry, glancing windward.

"It's either blowing hard in the Pacific orgoing to do it, and we'll get it presently.I'd be better pleased if we were nearerthat inlet. It's eight or nine miles off, andthe wind's dead ahead."

"The dope men would rather have a black,wild night, wouldn't they?" suggestedFrank.

"They're going to be gratified," Harryanswered significantly.

Frank, glad to do something to warmhimself, set to work at the little rotarypump, and a stream of water splashed andspread about the deck, which slanted andstraightened irregularly. He was still busywhen Jake called to him.

"You can let up and get that jib off her.Strip it right off the stay. We're not goingto have any use for a sail of that kind. Getout the small one, Harry."

"There's no wind to speak of yet," Harryprotested.

"Well," said Jake grimly, "you'll haveplenty before you're through."

Harry dragged up the small sail, and whenFrank had lowered the larger one theyproceeded to strip it off the stay. It tookthem some little time, but Frank, glancingat the slowly heaving, leaden water,fancied that there was no need for hasteuntil as he and his companion bundled thecanvas off the deck Jake called to them.

"Up with that jib!" he ordered. "Get ahustle!"

They had the halliard in their hands, andthe sail was half set, when it blew outsuddenly and there was a sharp creaking.The sloop slanted over wildly and acurious humming, rippling sound broke outto windward. Glancing around a momentFrank saw that the swell was growingwhite, and a rush of cold wind nearly

whipped his cap away. Then jamming hisfeet against a ledge with the deck slopingaway beneath him he struggled furiously tohoist the jib, while disjointed criesreached him from the helmsman.

"Heave!" Jake roared. "I can do nothingwith her until you have it set!"

They got the sail up somehow, though bythe time they had finished the sloop's leerail was in the sea, and then flungthemselves upon the mainsail. They werebreathless with the effort before they hadtied two reefs in it, and Frank wondered atthe change in their surroundings when atlength he sat down in the well.

The sea, which had run in long and almostsmooth undulations before they began to

reef, now splashed and seethed about theboat, and each big slope of water wasseamed with innumerable smaller ridges.Bitter spray was flying thick in the air,water already sluiced about the deck, andit was disconcerting to recollect that theywere still eight miles from the inlet. Thiswould not have mattered so much had itnot lain dead to windward, which meantthat they must fight for every yard theymade.

There was shelter to lee of them. Theycould put up the helm and run, but thoughthey were wet through in a few minutesthey braced themselves for the struggle,while the savage blast screamed aboutthem and the ominous sound Frank hadnoticed—the splash of waves that curled

and broke—came more loudly out of thegathering gloom ahead. Though hisphysical nature shrank from the taskbefore him Frank would not have chosento go back. It was a big thing they weretaking a hand in, the climax which all theirprevious adventures had led up to, and herecognized that they must see it through atany cost.

At last he was playing a man's part, actingin close coöperation with the Governmentof his country, and Mr. Barclay, who hadelaborated the scheme with infinitepatience and foresight, counted upon himand his comrade. That they should fail himnow was out of the question, but Frankwas glad that Jake sat at the tiller. Harrywas quick and daring, but he was young,

and in this fight there was urgent need forthe instinctive skill which comes fromlong experience. The helmsman'sstolidness was more reassuring. He gazedup to windward, gripping the tiller, withthe spray upon his rugged face, ready forwhatever action might be necessary. Loudtalking and an assertive manner were ofno service here; what was wanted wasraw human valor and steadfast nerve. Itwas fortunate that Jake, who was tranquiland good-humored, possessed both.

Darkness shut down on them suddenly asthey thrashed her out to westward full andby, lurching with flooded decks over thecharging seas. Their whitened tops brokeover her, her canvas ran water, and everyother minute she plunged into a comber

with buried bows. The combers, growingrapidly higher, broke more angrily, andher progress changed into a series of jerksand plunges, which at times threatened toshake the spars out of her. Frank could seethe black mainsail peak above himswinging madly up and down, and itseemed at times that half her length wasout of the water, which was notimprobably the case, for the foam uponher hove-up deck poured aft in cascadesover the low coaming and splashed abouttheir feet. By and by, for she was shallow-bodied like most centerboard craft, itbegan to gather in a pool which washed toand fro across the floorings in her leebilge, and at a shout from Jake he startedthe pump. It needed no priming, for assoon as he unscrewed the covering plate

the sea ran down, and there was nownothing to show what water it flung out,because half the lee deck was buried in arush of gurgling foam and the combers'tops broke continuously over the bows.

Still, the work roused and warmed him,and he toiled on, battered and almostblinded by flying brine, while hewondered how long the boat would standthe pressure of her largely reduced sail.He did not think they could tie another reefin, because it seemed certain thatsomething must burst or break the momenta rope was started. Besides, even had itbeen possible, reefing was out of thequestion. Their harbor lay to weather, anda boat will not sail to windward in avicious breeze unless she is driven at a

speed which is greater than the resistanceof the opposing seas.

They thrashed her out for two anxioushours, since it appeared doubtful that shewould come round and a failure to stayher would be perilous in the extreme, butat last Jake called to the boys.

"We've got to do it somehow," he said."Stand by your lee jibsheet and tail on tothe mainsheet the moment you let it run.Hold on till I tell you. We'll wait for asmooth."

A smooth, as it is termed by courtesy, isthe interval that now and then follows theonslaught of several unusually heavy seas,and at length as the boat swung up with alittle less water upon her deck Jake

seemed satisfied.

"Now! Helm's a-lee!" he shouted.

They let the jib fly, and jumping for themainsheet hauled with all their might,while Jake helped them with one hand asthe boat came up to the wind. Then as acomber fell upon her they sprang back tothe jibsheet and hauled upon it, while thespray flew all over them. It struck Frankthat if the boat did not come round therewould very speedily be an end of her.While he watched, holding his breath, thebows swung around a little farther, andworking in frantic haste they let the sheetfly and made fast the opposite one, whichwas now to lee. She forged ahead on theother tack—and the most imminent perilwas past.

It was two hours later when they raisedthe land again, and though one or the otherof them had pumped continuously thewater was splashing high about their feet.Jake had, however, made a good shot of it,for he recognized a ridge of higher groundmarked upon the chart, and they drove intoward it, battered, swept, and streaming.Frank felt strangely limp when at lengththey ran into smoother water, and Jakemade one significant remark.

"We're through," he said, "but if we'd hadto make another tack it would havefinished her."

The black land grew higher until theycould make out masses of shadowy pines,and eventually dropping the jib and peakthey ran her in behind a point with very

thankful hearts and let go the anchor. Halfof their task was finished, and they couldtake their ease until morning broke.

CHAPTER XXVIITHE DERELICT

The wind freshened after they reachedshelter and it blew very hard. For a timeFrank found sleep impossible, though hewas glad to lie snug in the warm cabinwith the lamp burning above him and thestove snapping cheerfully. The slooplurched and rocked, drawing her chaintight now and then with a bang, while amuffled uproar went on outside her. Frankcould distinguish the angry splash of waterupon her bows and the drumming andrapping of loose ropes against the mast,

though these sounds were partly drownedby the furious clamor of the ground seabeyond the point and a great deep-tonedroaring made, he supposed, by long ranksof thrashing trees. Once or twice, whenJake, who crawled out to see if the anchorwas holding, left the slide open, the soundfilled the cabin with tremendous pulsatingharmonies.

Besides this, the boy's face smarted afterthe lashing of icy spray, and he wonderedwhether Mr. Barclay's plans wereworking out successfully and what freshadventures awaited Harry and himself onthe morrow, all of which was sufficient tokeep him in a state of restless expectation.He envied his companion who presentlywent to sleep, but it was toward morning

when at last his own eyelids closed and hegot a few snatches of fitful slumber brokenby fantastic dreams. He was awakened bya chill upon his face, and looking aroundsaw that Jake had gone out again into thewell. The roar of the wind did not seem sooverwhelming as it had been, though therewas no doubt that it was still blowinghard. By and by Jake called out.

"You'd better get up," he said. "I've anotion that there's somebody hailing us."

Frank crawled out shivering, with Harrygrumbling half asleep behind him, andwhen he stood in the well found he couldsee a hazy loom of trees across the littlewhite waves that came splashing towardthe boat. They made a sharp, ripplingsound, pitched in a different tone from the

din that rose all around. The latter swelledand sank, and he was slightly surprisedwhen he was able to hear what seemed tobe a faint shout. It rose again more clearly,and there was no longer any doubt thatsomebody on the beach was hailing them.

"Can we get ashore?" he asked.

"You'll have to try," said Jake. "The man'sto windward of us, and it will be a stiffpaddle, but if you can't manage it you'llblow across to the beach on the other sideof the inlet safe enough and he may beable to get round to you. Anyway, I don'twant to leave the sloop. She'd have pickedup her anchor once or twice if I hadn'tgiven her more cable."

"What time is it?" Harry inquired.

"About seven o'clock," Jake answered."We'll have daylight soon after you'reback."

They hauled up the canoe and were notsurprised to find that she was full ofwater. It took them some time to bail herout, and Frank felt anxious when at lastthey pushed her clear of the sloop. It wasdifficult to tell how far off the beach was,and for the first few moments they couldmake no progress against the blast. Thenthey won a yard or two in a partial lull,and after that for a while barely held theirown by determined paddling. Thick raindrove into their faces and the spray fromthe bows and splashing blades blew overthem. Frank was breathless when theyreached the beach, and it cost him an

effort to scramble over the uneven stonesas far as the edge of the bush, where ashadowy figure stood beside a horse. Itshead drooped and even in the darkness,which was not very deep, its attitude wassuggestive of exhaustion. The man wasdimly visible, and they felt sure that hewas the messenger they expected.

"You're here on Barclay's business?" hesaid.

"Yes," said Harry. "Have you a messagefor him?"

The man fumbled in his pocket and tookout an envelope.

"That's from the boss. I guess it willexplain the thing, but he said I'd better let

you know that we'd had trouble."

"Then you didn't get the dope men?"

"We corralled three of them; the restbroke away. One of the boys got a bulletin him and he's been lying in the rain allnight. I don't know how we're going topack him out."

"Things went wrong?" said Frank.

"They did," the man assented. "One of theboys got his pistol off by accident justafter the boat had come ashore, and thatgave our plans away. The boat's crewshoved off and several men who'd beenlanded broke through in the dark. Anyhow,when the trouble was over we'd got onecase of dope, two whites of no account,

and a Chinaman."

"And the schooner?"

"She was heading out to sea with mightylittle sail on her when I left. You'll be ableto take word through to Barclay?"

"I don't know," Harry answereddubiously. "It's too dark to tell what thesea's like now. I suppose there's no othermeans of warning him?"

"No," said the man. "Even if I could get amessage on to the wire they wouldn't beable to deliver it at the other end, but hehas to be warned somehow."

"If you'll come off we'll give youbreakfast. It should be light enough to seewhat the weather's like by the time you

had finished," Harry suggested.

"It can't be done," was the answer. "I've togo on for a doctor and raise a crowd torun those fellows down. I've alreadystayed longer than I should."

"Your horse is played out," Frankobjected.

"I'll hire another. There's a ranchsomewhere ahead. I'll say you have takenthat message."

"We'll do it if it's any way possible," saidHarry.

The man turned away without anotherword and they heard him stumblingthrough the wood beside his horse untilthe roar of the wind drowned the sound,

after which they went back to the canoe.They had no trouble in reaching the sloop,for they were driven down upon herfuriously, and on clambering on boardthey found that Jake had breakfast ready.

It was daylight when they crawled out ofthe cabin after the meal, but the sky washidden by low-flying vapor, and gazingseaward they could see only a shortstretch of big leader combers which rolledup out of the haze crested with livid froth.Jake shook his head doubtfully at Harry.

"You'll have to stop a while," he said."She wouldn't run for half an hour beforethat sea. We couldn't start till after dinnerif the wind dropped right now, but it'sfalling and we might get away in theafternoon."

The morning dragged by while the boyschafed at the delay, though they had nodoubt that Jake was right and neither ofthem felt any keen desire to face the seathat was tumbling in from the Pacific.Still, the roar of the wind steadilydiminished and the sloop rode moreeasily, and at length Jake offered to makethe venture after they had had a meal.

They lashed three reefs down before theystarted, leaving only a small triangularstrip of mainsail set, but that proved quiteenough, and during the first few minutesFrank felt almost appalled as he glancedat the great gray combers that heavedthemselves up astern. Most of them werehollow breasted, and their tops curledover, flinging up long wisps of foam and

roaring ominously. As a rule they broke,divided, on either side of the boat, pilingup in a snowy welter high about hershrouds, but now and then one seemed tobreak all over her and most of her deckwas lost in a furious rush of water. Twicethe canoe, which was too big to stow ondeck, charged up and struck her with aresounding crash, and then broke adriftand disappeared.

By degrees, however, Frank's uneasinessdiminished. Somewhat to hisastonishment, the light and buoyant craftstood the buffeting, and by the time duskfell the seas were getting smaller. Still,they were big enough, and the boatappeared to be driving before them at anextraordinary speed. By eight o'clock in

the evening they had shaken out one reef,and soon afterward Frank lay down in thecabin, because Jake said that he had nointention of entrusting either him or Harrywith the helm, which was on the whole arelief to both of them. To run a small craftbefore a breaking sea in the dark is a verysevere test of nerve, and it is, perhaps,worse when the combers still comefoaming after her after the wind hassomewhat fallen.

In spite of the violent motion Frankmanaged to sleep until he was awakenedsome time after midnight by a shout fromJake. Crawling out, partly dazed, with hiseyes half open, he saw that the sky hadcleared and that a crescent moon wasshining down. Then, close ahead of them,

he saw the schooner.

She was also running, for her stern wastoward them, though for a moment or twoit was hidden by the white top of a sea,and Frank could only make out theforward half of her sharply tilted deck.Her bowsprit and two torn jibs above itwere high in the air, and her black boom-foresail all bunched up, with its gaff,which had swung down, jammed againstthe foremast shrouds. She carried no aftercanvas, and the reason became evidentwhen, as her stern lurched up, Frank sawthat her mainmast was broken off short.She sank down again while a comberfoamed high about her rail, which wasshattered on one quarter where the fallingmast had struck, and a mass of canvas and

tangled gear trailed in the sea beneath it.What struck the boy most, however, wasthe erratic manner in which she wasprogressing, for her bows swung up towindward every now and then until all herside was visible and she lumbered off atangle to her course and then came lurchingback again. She was herringboning, as it iscalled at sea, in an extraordinary fashion,and she seemed low in the water.

In the meanwhile the sloop was coming upwith her fast and Jake stood up at the tillerto see more clearly.

"They've been in trouble, sure," he said. "Icould tell there was nobody at her helmwhen I first saw her and that's why I ranup so close. Ease the peak down, one ofyou; I don't want to run by until we've had

a look at her."

Harry did so, and as they stood watchingher the schooner slued round until she wasalmost beam to wind. The sea streameddown her weather side, which rose up likea wall, and Frank could see her wheelbehind the low deckhouse jerking to andfro. There was no sign of life anywhere onboard her.

"Deserted!" Jake said shortly. "They musthave jibed her and smashed her mainmast.She seems a smart vessel. Seems to meshe ought to fetch a good many dollars."

The sloop was sailing more slowly nowwith her peak swung down, keeping pacewith the schooner but a little behind her,and the boys gazed hard at Jake. His

rugged face looked very thoughtful in themoonlight.

"It's a fair wind to the islands and she'dcome up until it was abeam with theforesail set if it was necessary," he said."It wouldn't be much trouble to sail her inand she could be beached somewhere insmooth water. Anyhow, I'd like to get onboard her."

"If you ran up close alongside when shescrews to windward one of us couldjump," Harry suggested eagerly. "There'sa raffle of ropes over her quarter."

Jake seemed dubious. "It might be doneand Barclay would be uncommonly gladto get his hands on her, but I can't leavethe sloop. Somebody has to take that

message."

"Put us on board," urged Harry. "How faris it to the islands?"

"With this wind and the whole sail on hershe ought to fetch them by daylight." ThenJake seemed to hesitate. "Looks as if therewas water in her, but one could wear herround and fetch the land to southward ifshe was leaking very bad."

The boys looked at each other and thesame impulse seized upon both of them.This was an adventure such as they hadnever dreamed of, and with a fair windthey would only have to keep the vesselrunning until they picked up the land. Itwould not be difficult, for she was undervery easy sail, and the only hazard would

be in the attempt to get on board her. ThenHarry jumped forward and hauled up thepeak.

"Run alongside as quick as you can," hesaid.

Jake put down his helm a little, and theboys stood up on the weather deck withtense, set faces as the sloop crept in underthe schooner's lea. The latter slued towindward while the spray flew over her,rolling until her deck on the side nearestthem was level with the sea, and then felloff again and sluggishly heaved her bowshigh above the foam. This herringboningwas the danger, since it would need nerveand skill to get near her without wreckingthe sloop. A blow from the big lurchinghull would probably send her to the

bottom.

Frank felt himself quivering all through asthey closed with the derelict yard by yard,until when she once more lumbered roundto windward Jake put down his helm alittle farther. The sloop shot in beneath theblack hull, which broke the sea and partlysheltered her, but as she swept forwardamidst a long wash of foam Frank'scourage ebbed away from him. A greatwhite swell lapped about the wall of wetplanking close in front of him, and the topof it was higher than his head. It seemedimpossible that he could spring out fromthe lurching sloop and by any meansclamber up. All his senses shrank from thedangerous task, but with a determinedeffort he braced himself. If Harry made the

attempt he would do it, too, and heclenched his hands and set his lips as theschooner's side came sinking down.

"Don't jump unless you are sure you canreach her!" shouted Jake.

They were now scarcely a fathom from thetrailing wreckage, and the schooner's railwas dipping lower. It seemed justpossible to clutch it by a desperate leap,and the next moment Harry launchedhimself out into the air. Frank followed,struck the wet planking, and seizing atrailing rope held on by it with his legs inthe sea. Then he dragged himself up clearof the water, and Harry, who was kneelingin the opening in the broken rail, reacheddown to him.

Frank clutched his hand, and in a fewmore seconds was almost astonished tofind himself, breathless and dripping, safeupon the schooner's deck. A glanceshowed him the sloop abreast of herquarter and about a dozen yards away.

"Jake did that mighty smartly," Harrygasped. "I'll get to the wheel while youlook around her."

CHAPTER XXVIIIA GRIM DISCOVERY

Frank had some difficulty in getting aboutthe vessel. She was rolling wildly andloose ropes and blocks whipped blindlyto and fro, but he noticed that the boat hadgone, and the cleanly severed shroudsindicated that her mainmast had been cutloose after it had fallen over the side. Itwas evident that the crew had made someattempt to save the vessel before theyabandoned her. The mainboom haddisappeared, though the broken gaff andpart of the sail were still attached to the

hull by a mass of tangled gear. Scramblingforward he found the anchor lying stillhooked to a tackle and half secured withits arms upon the rail, which suggestedthat the smugglers had sailed in haste andhad been kept too busy afterward to makeit fast. It was reassuring to discover thatthe anchor could be dropped without muchtrouble if this became necessary. Then hecame upon a lantern hooked beneath theforecastle scuttle and went back to reportto Harry. The latter, who was standing atthe wheel, listened to him attentively.

"Well," he said at length, "I can't figureout the thing, and unless some of the dopemen explain it I don't think we're likely tobe much wiser. As Jake said, it looks as ifthey had jibed her by accident, which

would probably rip out the mainmast, but,although it's easy to bring the mainboomover on a fore-and-aft rigged craft, it'smighty seldom that a capable sailor doesit. Then, as there's water in her, they musthave bumped her on a reef, though shecould only have struck once or twicebefore she drove over it. That's as far as Ican get, and the first thing is to find outwhat water there is below. It's fortunateyou have a lantern."

Frank looked around. There was no doubtthat the wind was falling, and theschooner, having only part of her forwardcanvas set, steered easily. The sloop,which had sheered off a little farther, wassailing abreast of her with lowered peakabout a hundred yards away, rising and

falling with the long combers which,however, broke less angrily.

"Jake will stand by for three or fourhours," Harry explained. "After that he'llhave to haul her up to make the inletwhere we were to join Barclay, but it willbe close on daylight by then."

Frank was glad to hear it. There would besome peril in getting on board the sloop ifthat became necessary, but it wascomforting to see her close at hand. In themeanwhile he shrank from going belowand made no move to do so until Harryspoke again.

"I'm anxious about that water and you hadbetter get down," he said. "Go in by thehouse; there'll probably be a lazaret

below it with an opening in the deck."

Frank reluctantly scrambled forwardaround the house, the door of which facedtoward the bows, and being out of thewind there he contrived to light thelantern, though he struck several matchesin the attempt. The house, which occupiedmost of the vessel's quarter, was low sothat the mainboom could swing over it,and it was evident that the cabin floor wassunk some feet below the level of thedeck. Frank thrust the door open and thenstood hesitating, holding up the lantern,which did not burn well and only flung afaint light into the obscurity before him.He could hear an ominous gurgle of waterbelow when the schooner rolled and madeout three or four steps which seemed to

lead down into it. As he placed his foot onthe first of them the vessel lurched wildlyand he went down with a bang, while thelantern flew out of his hand. For no veryevident reason, except that he wasoverstrung, he could have shouted inalarm as he lay upon the wet flooring inthe dark. He had struck his knee in his falland for a moment or two he feared tomove it.

Then he noticed a pale reflection againstwhat he supposed to be the bottom of aseat, and as it was evident that theoverturned lantern had not quite gone outhe crawled toward it. As he did so thesplash and gurgle of water seemed muchlouder than it had done on deck. He couldhear it surge against the sides of the vessel

and the hollow sound jarred upon hisnerves. He longed to escape from theoppressive obscurity and get out into themoonlight by his companion's side, but hereflected that it would not be pleasant totell Harry that he had run away from thedarkness and left the lantern. Hedetermined to secure the latter, and he wasmoving toward it on hands and kneeswhen his fingers struck something that feltlike a pistol. He let it lie, however, andstretched out his hand for the lantern,setting it upright. The flickering flamegrew brighter, and standing up he flung theuncertain light about him. There wasundoubtedly a revolver on the uncoveredfloor, which was dripping wet, and hethought it curious that the smugglersshould have left the weapon lying in that

position; but ever since he had boardedthe schooner he had been troubled by anuncomfortable sense of strangeness. Thefact that her crew had abandoned her,apparently without a sufficient reason,suggested a mystery. Then he raised hishand so that the radiance touched a little,clamped-down table, and as it did so hestarted and came near dropping the lanternagain, for a man sat at the table with hishead and shoulders resting upon it as if hehad suddenly fallen forward.

Frank afterward confessed that his firstimpulse was to run toward the door, andhe was never quite certain why he did notdo so, but he stood still holding up thelantern, while his heart throbbed painfullyand his flesh seemed to creep. The bent

figure was unnaturally still, but when theschooner lurched and the table slanted itfell forward a little farther, all in onepiece—which was how he thought of it—and as a heavy sack would have done.That was too much for Frank, andclambering up the steps he ran back toHarry in breathless haste.

"You look as if something had scaredyou," said the latter with a trace of anxietyin his voice.

Frank leaned against the house, and hisface showed white and set in themoonlight.

"There's a man lying across the table inthe cabin," he panted.

Harry started, but he pulled up his helm aspoke or two.

"She'll come up if I leave her, but thatwon't matter much," he said. "We'll goback together."

Frank felt a little easier now that he had acompanion, and he was more collectedwhen he stood in the cabin holding up thelight while Harry, who called first and gotno answer, walked cautiously toward thehuddled figure. Then he shrank back apace or two.

"The man's dead!" he said.

After that neither of them moved for half aminute during which the deck slantedwildly beneath them, and then Frank

proceeded very reluctantly toward thetable. Harry followed him, and when theystooped over the shadowy figure Frankcaught a partial glimpse of a yellow faceand saw that the man wore a loose bluejacket.

"Turn the light a little," said Harry in alow, hoarse voice, and when Frank haddone so he looked around at him.

"It's the man we got dinner with the daywe went up the creek. He's been shot," headded.

Once more the horror of the thing wasalmost too much for Frank, but just then afurious thrashing of loose canvas andclatter of blocks broke out above them andrelieved the tension.

"She's luffing with the sea on her quarter,"said Harry. "I must get back to the helm,but we'll wait a moment and look aroundfirst. Lower your lantern. There'ssomething on the floor—no, I don't meanthe pistol, though you can pick that up."

He stooped down beside Frank, who heldthe lantern close to the wet planking, andsaw for the first time a broad wet stainupon it leading toward the steps. That wasenough for both of them, and sayingnothing further they scrambled toward thedoor. They did not stop until they reachedthe wheel, and then Harry spent a fewmoments getting the vessel before thewind again.

"We're no wiser about the water yet," hesaid at length with a strained laugh.

"No," said Frank. "I didn't think about it—I only wanted to get out as quick as Icould." He broke off, and then added,"What do you make of it?"

Harry stretched out one hand for thepistol, opened it, and held it up in themoonlight.

"There's a shell still in," he said. "Theman it belonged to must have dropped it ina mighty hurry. It's clear that there was arow on board her either before or aftershe lost her mast. That Chinaman had abullet through his head and somebody elsewas hurt, though he got out of the house—the stains showed that. I wonder"—and hedropped his voice—"if we ought to searchthe forecastle."

"I'm not going down," Frank answereddecisively.

"Well," said Harry, "I don't feel like iteither. That's the simple fact."

Again there was silence for a while andboth were glad that the solid end of thehouse stood between them and what lay inthe cabin. Then Frank roused himself.

"We've forgotten about the water, but thehatch is smashed," he said. "I expect theydropped the boat upon it in heaving herout. I might get down that way."

"You had better try," said Harry, glancingaround and pointing to the sloop, whichwas now nearer them. "Jake must haveedged her in when he saw the schooner

come up with no one at the helm," headded. "It's nice to feel that he's about."

Frank agreed with him. Once more hefound the sight of the sloop curiouslyreassuring, but he scrambled forward,and, wriggling through a hole in thebroken hatch, clambered partly down abeam. There was water below him, butthere was less than he expected, and hecould not hear any more pouring in, thoughhe recognized that this would have beendifficult on account of the gurgling andsplashing that was going on. Afterlistening for a minute or two he went backto Harry.

"There's a good deal of water in her," hesaid. "Hadn't we better heave some of itout?"

"I don't think it would be worth while,"was Harry's answer. "You could hardlywork the pump alone, and if I left the helmshe'd keep running up into the wind andyawing about. I'd rather shove her alongsteadily toward the land."

"Then can't we get the foresail properlyset and drive her a little faster?" Frankinquired. "She ought to bear it now thewind's dropping."

It was not only the leak that troubled him.He wanted to escape as soon as possiblefrom the horror that seemed to pervade thevessel, and his companion eagerly seizedupon the suggestion.

"Why, of course!" replied Harry. "I mighthave thought of it, but I've been kind of

dazed since we got out of the cabin."

They went forward and led the halliardsto the winch, but they would have hadtrouble in setting the partly lowered sail ifthe schooner had not come up into thewind and relieved the strain on it. Bydegrees they heaved up the gaff andpeaked it, after which they went aft, as thevessel plowed faster over the falling sea.

"Now," said Frank, "the question is,where are we heading for?"

"I've been worrying over that while we setthe sail," Harry responded. "If we hauledher up right now we might, perhaps, fetchthe inlet where we arranged to joinBarclay, but we'd have to jibe the foresailover, and as I would have to keep the

helm while I brought her round and youwouldn't be able to check the sheet alone,it's very likely that something wouldsmash when the boom came across.Besides that, we'd have a strip of rockycoast to lee of us presently, and wemightn't be able to keep her off it withonly the foresail set. On the other hand, sofar as I can recollect from looking at thechart, the islands are dead to leeward andwe'd only have to keep her running toreach them. There's a sound where we'dfind smooth water once we sailed her in.That would be the wiser plan."

Frank, concurring in this, sat down nearthe helm. He felt that he would not like togo far away, and he remembered that nightwatch long afterward.

The moon crept on to the westward,getting lower, and now and then flyingclouds obscured the silvery light. Thecombers still came surging after themcrested with glittering froth, though theyno longer broke about the rail, and therewas a constant gurgling and splashing ofwater inside the lurching vessel. At lastJake jibed the sloop's mainsail over andstood away from them. The moon wasvery low now and Frank grew somewhatuneasy as he watched the boat's canvasfade into the creeping gloom. Shortlyafterward the moon dipped altogether andit was very dark.

"We can't be far off the land," said Harry."I don't want to come up with it beforedaylight, but with no after canvas on her I

don't suppose we could round her up andwait. If we did, I'm not sure we could gether to fall off again—one of the jibs istorn to ribands and the other's split. We'llhave to keep her running."

They drove on and presently a faint graylight crept across the water to the east. Alittle later, when all the sky was flushedwith red and saffron, a long black smearcut sharply across the glow.

"The first of the islands," announcedHarry. "It's right abeam. We must get someforesail sheet in."

They had difficulty in doing so, thoughthey led the sheet to the winch, but theschooner came up closer afterward, andwhen the sun had climbed above a bank of

cloud the end of the island was risingbefore them and a strip of water openingup beyond it. Half an hour later they ran inwith the foresail peak lowered down, andFrank gazed anxiously ahead as they droveon more slowly up a broad channel. Onone hand there were rocks and scrubbypines, with larger trees behind, but hewondered what the result would be if areef or a jutting point lay in front of them.The vessel's speed, however, grewslower still, the water became smoother,and at last Harry looked around at him.

"If you'll unhook the tackle and cut thelashing you ought to get the anchor over,"he remarked. "I'll luff her as far aspossible and you'll heave the thing offwhen I drop the foresail."

There followed a clatter of blocks, and afurious rattle of running chain, whichpresently stopped. Then as the swingingvessel drew her cable out they toileddesperately at the windlass to heave upmore of it from below. The task wasalmost beyond their strength, but somehowthey managed it and Harry clapped on achain stopper.

"That should hold her," he said. "There'snot much wind now. I'd be glad to leaveher if I could get ashore."

This, however, was out of the question,since the canoe had gone, and very muchagainst their will they waited on board forseveral hours until at length a trail ofsmoke arose above the pines. Then a littlesteamer with foam about her bows

appeared from behind a point and the hootof her whistle rang sharply across thewater.

"Barclay, sure!" said Harry. "I'm certainlyglad to see him."

A few minutes later Mr. Barclay climbedon board and went down into the cabinand all over the vessel with them beforehe made any remarks. At length he turnedto the boys as they stood by the rail.

"You have done a very smart thing and Idon't think you'll have any reason forregretting it," he said pointedly. "This is agood set-off against the failure at the otherend. Jake got in with the message and westarted as soon as I'd had a talk with him.Fortunately, we were able to creep along

through the sounds and it's scarcely likelythat any of the smugglers can have seenus."

"But what has become of this vessel'screw?" Frank asked.

"I don't know," replied Mr. Barclay."We'll probably ascertain something aboutthem later."

"Do you expect to corral the rest of themto-night?" Harry broke in.

"It's possible," said Mr. Barclay with atrace of dryness. "The first thing,however, is to beach this vessel, and thenyou and Jake must get off in the sloop.There's a good deal to be done, and I wantto run the steamer back out of sight up the

inlet as soon as it can be managed."

He called some of his companions onboard, and when Frank and Harry satdown to an excellent meal in the steamer'scabin they heard the men heaving theschooner's anchor.

CHAPTER XXIXTHE RAID

Daylight was breaking when the boys raninto the cove near the ranch after a quickpassage and saw Mr. Oliver standing onthe beach.

"I've been looking out for you ratheranxiously," he said when he had shakenhands with them. "Has Barclay beensuccessful?"

"No," said Harry, "not altogether. Some ofthe dope men got away at the first placewhere they landed."

Mr. Oliver looked rather grave at this."How many of them escaped?"

"I don't know exactly. The messenger saidseveral. Besides, the crew of the schoonerabandoned her, and it seems likely thatthey got ashore. That would make twoparties who may have joined each other."

"Ah!" said Mr. Oliver; "it's a pity invarious ways! How did Barclay get on atthe other end?"

"I can't tell you. He didn't expect to makethe seizure until night when the dope men'sfriends would be waiting for the schoonerto run in, and he sent us off in theafternoon."

"It was wise of him," Mr. Oliver

answered. "In the meanwhile your aunthasn't cleared breakfast away, and as Iexpect you're ready for it we'll go in atonce."

During the meal they gave him an outlineof their adventures, to which he listenedthoughtfully. Then he said:

"You had better lie down and get a sleep.We'll have another talk about it later on."

"I think I'd rather work," said Frank. "Wegot some sleep in turns last night, and Idon't feel like lying down. The fact is," headded hesitatingly, "we've been doingsomething or other so hard since we wentaway that I don't think I could leave off allat once. I feel strung up yet and I'd ratherkeep busy."

Mr. Oliver smiled understandingly."That's sensible. There's nothing as goodas your regular work for cooling you offand helping you to get calm again; but ifyou like you can take a note over toWebster and you needn't hurry back if heasks you to have dinner with him. Thenthere are two or three stumps you may aswell grub out."

They set out soon afterward and Frank, forone, was glad of the walk. He had beencramped on board the sloop, and theexcitement of the last few days had told onhim. He was nervously restless and feltthat it would be useless to lie down untilhe was physically worn out. When hementioned it to Harry the latter confessedto a similar sensation, and added that they

had not yet finished with the dope men.

Mr. Webster was at work in his clearingwhen they reached it, but he walked withthem to his house, dropping Mr. Oliver'snote into the stove as soon as he read it.

"You'll have dinner before you go backand tell your father I'll come along," hesaid. "Would you like to take that singlegun with you, Frank? Harry still has theother one."

Frank said that he would be very glad, buthis companion broke in:

"What did dad ask you to come over for?"

"He wasn't very precise," answered Mr.Webster evasively. "He'll probably tellme more when I'm at the ranch."

As it was evident that he did not mean tobe communicative, they ate their dinnerwithout asking any further questions, butwhen they were walking home through thebush Harry smiled at his companionsignificantly.

"What do you make of the whole thing?"he asked.

"I don't know," said Frank. "Your fatherlooked troubled when he heard the dopemen had got away."

"He did," assented Harry. "Then he sentover for Webster, who wouldn't tell uswhat he was wanted for, though he madeyou take that gun along."

Frank knitted his brows.

"Well," he said thoughtfully, "it's only anidea of mine, but it's possible that thefellows who escaped might make an attackupon the ranch out of revenge. Now if weallow that the schooner had been drivingalong before the wind for some time aftershe was abandoned—and several thingspointed to it—one would fancy that themen who left her must have landed notvery far from the spot where Barclay'smen tried to seize them. It seems to me thefirst thing they'd do would be to attempt tojoin the rest so as to be strong enough toresist a posse sent out to hunt them down.It would be clear that somebody had giventhem away and they'd no doubt blame yourfather. Of course they suspected himalready."

"You've hit it," said Harry, whose facegrew stern. "If they come along there'll betrouble, but we'll make some of it. I don'tfeel kind to the dope men after that sight inthe schooner's cabin."

Frank thought that his companion worevery much the same look as his father haddone on the morning when he stood besidethe fallen horse with the smoking pistol inhis hand.

"I expect they'll be desperate now," hesaid, but Harry did not answer, and theywalked on a little faster.

On arriving at the ranch they set aboutgrubbing up the stumps and managed to getone big one out during the few hours'daylight that remained, but neither of them

were sorry when Miss Oliver called themin to supper. Frank, however, stood still amoment or two, glancing about him andleaning upon his grubhoe. There was not abreath of wind stirring, and the firs rose indense shadowy masses against a soft graysky. The light was fading off the clearing,the rows of stumps had grown blurred anddim, and it was impressively still. Thewhole surroundings looked very peaceful;one could imagine them steeped incontinual tranquillity, but Frankremembered the broken mower andbecame vaguely uneasy. Besides, he couldnot get the scene in the schooner's cabin,where the dead man lay fallen forwardacross the table, out of his mind. ThenMiss Oliver called him again, and makingan effort to throw off this exceedingly

unpleasant train of thought he strodequickly toward the house.

They sat about the stove after supper, andFrank fancied that Mr. Oliver waslistening for something now and then, butfor a while no sound rose from theclearing. He made the boys give him a fewmore particulars about their adventures.

"What do you suppose Barclay meantwhen he said that we would not be sorrywe had brought the schooner in?" askedHarry.

"Well," his father replied, when he hadconsidered a moment, "the vessel wasabandoned when you fell in with her. Ifshe had been employed in a legitimatetrade you could have enforced a claim for

your services and you would have had nodifficulty in getting a large share of hervalue. The affair, however, is complicatedby the fact that she was engaged insmuggling, because, while I don't knowmuch about these matters, I'm inclined tobelieve that would warrant the revenueauthorities in either seizing her altogetheror holding her as security for a heavy fine.Still, even in this case, you should have aclaim and I've no doubt that Barclay willlook after your interests."

"Have you any idea what our share wouldbe?" Frank asked eagerly.

"I could only make a guess. As she seemsto be a comparatively new vessel and isprobably in good repair except for thedamage she received on the night in

question I think you could hold out for twothousand dollars. It's quite possible thatshe only started a plank or two, and a newmainmast wouldn't cost a great deal."

"Two thousand dollars!" and Frankgasped with astonishment.

"I believe the award depends upon thevalue of the services rendered and thehazard incurred," Mr. Oliver answeredwith a smile. "There seems very littledoubt that the vessel would have gone tothe bottom if you hadn't fallen in with her,and I expect any arbitrator would admitthat in running alongside and getting onboard her in a heavy sea you did adangerous thing. Jake, of course, wouldtake a share, though his would be asmaller one than yours; but Barclay will

be able to tell you more about it than I can.We must get his advice as soon aspossible."

Shortly afterward Mr. Webster arrivedcarrying a rifle, and Frank observed thatMr. Oliver was glad to see him. They,however, only discussed fruit growing andthe price of stock, and when by and by theboys became drowsy Mr. Oliver told themthat they had better go to bed.

The boys were about to withdraw to theirroom, when Harry had a sudden thought.

"Where's the dog?" he asked.

"In the stable," said Mr. Oliver dryly. "Wehave kept him there the last few nights."

It occurred to Frank that this had been

done as a precaution, since the stable andbarn stood close together at some littledistance from the house, but Harry madesome careless answer and they turnedaway toward their room. When theyreached it Harry sat down on his bed andhis face looked grave in the lamplight.

"Dad's expecting trouble," he said. "Younoticed that all the guns were laid handyand there was a lot of shot as well as rifleshells spread out loose on the shelf."

"Do you think the dope men will come to-night?"

"I can't say. I wouldn't be astonished ifthey did. Anyhow, I'm dead played out andwe can go to sleep, because dad andWebster mean to sit up all night. I don't

know whether you noticed that the coffeepot was on the stove and dad had his cigarbox out."

Frank had not noticed it, but he hadalready discovered that in some mattershis companion's eyes were sharper thanhis own. He, however, made no comment,for a heavy weariness had seized him atlast and he was glad to get his clothes offand go to bed. He was soon asleep andsome hours had passed when he feltHarry's hand upon his shoulder. Raisinghimself suddenly, he looked around. Theroom was very dark, and he could hearnothing until a door latch clicked belowand he fancied that he heard stealthyfootsteps outside the building.

"You had better get up and dress as quick

as you can," said Harry. "That's Webstercrossing the clearing. Dad slipped out aminute or two before him."

Frank scrambled into his clothes andfollowed Harry to the window, wherethey leaned upon the ledge. There was nodoubt that somebody was moving awayfrom the house, because they could hearthe withered grass rustle and now and thenthe faint crackle of a twig, but they couldsee nothing except the leafless fruit treesand the black wall of bush shutting in theclearing.

Then a savage growl that sounded dulledand muffled broke out from the stable, andFrank felt a little quiver run through him.The sound died away and he found theheavy silence that followed it hard to

bear, but a few moments later the doggrowled again and then broke into a seriesof short, snapping barks.

"If he gets loose somebody's going to besorry," said Harry with a harsh, strainedlaugh. Then he gripped Frank's arm hard."Look yonder!"

A yellow blaze suddenly leaped up besidethe barn and grew brighter rapidly, untilFrank made out a man's black figureoutlined against it. He seemed to bethrowing an armful of brush or witheredtwigs upon the spreading fire, and Frankswung around toward his companion.

"Hadn't we better shout or run down?" heasked.

"Wait," said Harry shortly. "Dad's alreadyon that fellow's trail."

He was right, for while the figure bentover the fire a thin streak of red sparksflashed out from among the fruit trees andthe crash of a rifle filled the clearing. Theman leaped back from the fire, ran a fewpaces at headlong speed, and vanishedsuddenly into the shadow.

"He's not hurt," Frank said hoarsely.

"Then it's because dad didn't mean to hithim," Harry answered. "That was awarning."

"He doesn't seem to be going to put out thefire."

"No," said Harry with the same strained

laugh, "dad knows too much for that.Those logs are thick, they won't light easy,and it's only a little pile of small stuffthat's burning. Dad has no use for standingout where those fellows can see himunless it's necessary. In the meanwhile thedope men don't know where he is andthat's going to worry them."

Frank could understand this. It seemedvery likely that the small fire would burnout before the logs caught, and it wasclear that the men who had made it couldnot run back into the light to throw onmore brushwood without incurring thehazard of being shot. On the other hand,Mr. Oliver would have to face the sameperil if he approached to put it out. Fromthis it seemed very probable that both he

and the dope men would wait to see whatthe result would be.

In the meanwhile the crash of the rifle hadhad a curious effect on Frank. It was thefirst time that he had ever seen a shot firedin anger and he was sufficiently wellacquainted with Mr. Oliver's character tofeel certain that if the warning failed toprove efficacious the next bullet wouldnot go wide. He felt his nerves tingle andcaught his breath more quickly, for itseemed highly probable that he might beshortly called on to watch or, perhaps,take part in some horrible thing. He didnot mean to shirk it, but at the same timehe was conscious that he would havegreatly preferred to be standing beside theschooner's wheel while she lurched over

the big foaming seas.

The suspense became almost intolerableas he watched the fire, which presentlysank until at last only a feeble, flickeringblaze was left. Then a figure sprang out ofthe shadow and ran toward it carryingsomething in its arms. The next momentthere was another crash in a different partof the clearing from where they had heardthe first shot, and the figure, dropping itsburden, vanished suddenly.

"That's Webster," said Harry dryly. "I'mnot sure that he meant to miss."

In the meanwhile the savage barking of thedog, whom they had scarcely noticedduring the last few moments, once moreforced itself upon their attention.

"Why doesn't your father let the dog getafter them?" Frank asked.

"I don't know," Harry answered. "It'spossible he'd rather not have them routedout from among the trees. If it were onlydaylight we could stand them off! Haveyou your watch?"

Frank took it from his pocket and rubbed asulphur match in nervous haste. It went outand he struck another with quiveringfingers. A pale glow of light sprang upand he held the watch close against it.

"Only four o'clock!" he announced."There'll be more than three hours'darkness yet."

Harry made no answer, and except for the

barking of the dog there was silence for aminute or two. It was Frank at last whobroke it.

"I can't stand any more of this," he said."Let's go down."

His companion seemed to hesitate. "It'snot nice, but I don't know what to do.Aunt's in the house, and though Jake's onthe lookout somewhere I've a notion thatdad would call us if he meant us to come."He broke off and added in a verysuggestive tone, "I don't—want—to stayin."

"We could go as far as the door, anyway,"Frank persisted.

They slipped out of the room and made for

the kitchen very quietly, but Frank was alittle astonished when they reached it,because though there was no lamp burningthe front of the stove was open and thefaint glow which shone out fell upon MissOliver who was sitting close by. A riflelay upon the table at her side and Jake'sshadowy figure showed up near the openwindow.

"Where are you going, Harry?" she asked.

Harry stopped and leaned upon the table."Out into the clearing a little way. Afterthat, I don't know. I don't want to spoildad's plans by butting in before it'snecessary, but I wish he'd told us what todo. You won't mind if we go?"

"I've Jake—and this," Miss Oliver

answered, quietly pointing to the rifle."On the whole I think I'd just as soon youtried to find out what is going on, but keepout of sight while you're about it and becautious."

They slipped out, and when they stoppedat a short distance from the house Franktouched his companion.

"Can she shoot?" he asked.

"It's my opinion that she'd beat you at itevery time," said Harry curtly.

He raised his hand as though to demandsilence, and they both stood listening, butthere was deep silence now, for the doghad ceased to bark. It was difficult toimagine that somewhere in the shadowy

clearing there were a number of menwatching with every sense alert.

"I think the first shot came from the otherside of the fruit trees. We'll look in amongthem," said Harry.

Treading very softly, they made for thetrees, which were young and had shedtheir leaves, but their trunks and branches,massed in long rows, offeredconcealment. They would not entirelycover up the figure of any one standingamong them, but they would break itsoutline, which is almost as effective since,as Frank had already learned, it issingularly difficult to recognize an objectwhen one can only see a part of it.Besides, the sky was overcast and therewas no moon visible.

The boys walked a few steps and stoppedagain to consider. It was as still as ever,and there was nothing to guide them indeciding where Mr. Oliver or Mr.Webster might be, while they recognizedthat any noise they made would probablybe followed by a rifle shot. The smugglersand ranchers would naturally be listeningfor the least sound that might betray eachother's presence. The first incautiousmovement would therefore lay either partyopen to attack, and Frank could understandthe smuggler's hesitation in making anotherattempt to burn the barn, since, apart fromany noise they made, the figure of the manwho started the fire would be forced upclearly by the light. Indeed, he fancied thatso long as the two men kept still theiropponents must do the same.

In the meanwhile he found it singularlydifficult to crouch in the grass waiting andlistening. It would have been much easierto move forward, even at the hazard ofdrawing the smuggler's fire upon himself,but as this was out of the question herestrained the desire to do so by an effortof his will. To hasten an attack wouldinterfere with Mr. Oliver's plans, andthere was no doubt that the odds againstthe rancher were already heavy. Frank,however, could not keep his heart fromthumping painfully or his fingers fromtrembling upon the gun barrel. Never hadtime seemed to pass so slowly.

Several minutes dragged by and still nosound rose from the surrounding fruit treesor shadowy clearing. It almost seemed as

if Mr. Oliver and his opponents meant tolie motionless until the morning, whichFrank realized was a good deal more thanhe could force himself to do.

CHAPTER XXXTHE RELIEF OF THE

RANCH

The silence was becoming unendurablewhen it was suddenly broken by twosharp, ringing crashes in quick succession.Though Frank was afterward ashamed ofit, he fairly jumped and came very nearlydropping his gun. While he was strugglingwith an impulse to fire at random into thedarkness there was an answering bang andhe felt a tug at his elbow.

"I think it was Webster who fired first,"

said Harry in a low, tense voice. "If I'mwrong, it means that the dope men havegot in between us and the house, but thatisn't likely. Dad would have heard themand made a move if they'd tried it."

Frank said nothing, and when the echoesdied away among the woods there wasonce more a nerve-trying silence, exceptfor the savage barking of the dog. It lasteda few minutes, and then Harry spokeagain:

"The shots will be quite enough to put dadon to those fellows' trail. I expect he'scrawling in on them now."

The boy's whisper was hoarse withanxiety, but he made no attempt to moveand Frank wondered at his self-command.

Shortly afterward there was an unexpectedchange in the situation, for a faint flickerof light shot up again from where Franksupposed the barn to be. This waspuzzling, because, while the light wasrather high up and there seemed to be abrighter blaze beneath it, Frank could notsee the fire. Then the explanation flashedupon him as the black shape of thebuilding became dimly visible against theuncertain glow. The smugglers had lighteda second fire behind the barn, which nowstood between them and Mr. Oliver. Frankgasped with dismay as he realized that itwas a simple and effective trick. If therancher moved forward hastily he mustbetray himself to his enemies by the noisehe made, while if he proceeded slowlyand cautiously the barn would probably

take fire before he reached a spot fromwhich he could drive back the men, whowere no doubt piling up brushwoodagainst the building.

"It looks as if they'd got us!" hewhispered.

"No," said Harry sharply and aloud. "Thething didn't strike me, but dad's not to becaught like that. Now, as any row wemake will draw them off him, we'll hurryup. Get up and run."

Frank did so, but although he had beenlonging to do something of the kind a fewminutes earlier he found that he had nogreat liking for the part Harry expectedhim to play. It was decidedly unpleasantto feel that in all probability he was fixing

upon himself the attention of several menwho could shoot very well. He had goneonly a few paces, however, when therewas a shot from behind the barn and Harrylaughed—a breathless laugh.

"That's dad. He's headed them off again!"he said.

Frank ran on, but thrilling as he was withexcitement it occurred to him that thisbattle was a rather intricate one, in whichhe was right. These bushmen wereaccustomed to hunting and trailing, anddid not rush at each other's throats,shouting and firing more or less atrandom. Instead, they seemed to bemaneuvering for positions from whichthey could prevent their opponents frommaking another move. Nowadays, in any

battle large or small, in which men areengaged who can handle the terriblemodern rifle, the position is the oneessential thing, since it is only the mostdesperate courage that can drive home anattack upon a well-covered firing line.

Soon after the boys had heard the shot ashadowy figure slipped out from amongthe fruit trees close in front of them andFrank called, "Webster!"

The man swung around, but instead ofanswering he sprang backward, and Frankrealized that he had almost run into thearms of one of the smugglers. The boysdid not see where he went, though hemade some noise, and they afterwardconcluded that he had mistaken them forgrown men. In the meanwhile they went on

again more cautiously, until at length theywere stopped by a low cry and Mr. Oliverrose from the grass a few feet away. Theywere on the other side of the barn now andcould see that the fire had got hold of it.There was no doubt that some of the logswere burning and a pile of brushwoodwhich had been laid against them wasburning fiercely.

"It's spreading," said Harry. "Can't we putit out?"

"No," said his father with grim quietness."It would take time and at least a dozenwet grain bags, while it wouldn't be safefor any one to approach the light."

There was something in his voice thatstartled Frank.

"You have hit one of them?" he asked.

"There's reason for believing it. Websterand I couldn't watch the four sides of thebarn, and they chose the one that seemedthe most unlikely. Still, as it happened, Igot around quick enough."

"Then what are we to do now?" Harryinquired.

"Fall back on the house," replied Mr.Oliver. "I've sent Webster on, and it's nouse waiting for another of them to comeout into the light."

The boys turned back with him, movingquickly but making no more noise thanthey could help, and on reaching thedwelling they found Mr. Webster standing

in the kitchen. The room was dark exceptfor the faint glow which shone out fromthe front of the stove, and Miss Oliverwas still sitting where the boys had lastseen her, with an open box of cartridges ather feet. There was, however, light enoughoutside, for a red glare which grewsteadily brighter streamed across theclearing.

"Where's the dog?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," said Mr. Webster. "I lethim out before I came along. I expectyou're going to hear him presently."

There was silence for the next six orseven minutes during which Frank heardthe ticking of a clock and the crackle ofknotty pinewood in the stove. He could

see Mr. Oliver standing a little on oneside of the open window, an indistinctfigure with face and hands that showeddimly white. His pose indicated that hewas holding a rifle level with his breast,and presently as the red glow behind thefruit trees grew higher and brighter thebarrel twinkled in a ray of light. Thenthere was a furious barking and Jakelaughed at the sound.

"Well," he said, "they don't mean to keepus waiting."

Mr. Oliver turned to the boys. "Keep clearof this window and watch the other one.You're not to fire a shot unless I tell you."

The barking of the dog grew louder and itwas evident that the animal was following

the smugglers toward the house, but Frankcould see nobody for a while. Then hemade out two or three moving shadowsamong the fruit trees, but they vanishedagain as the light sank, and he almostwished that they would spring out fromcover and make a rush upon the building.He could imagine them creeping stealthilynearer and nearer, and the strain of theforced inaction became nearly unbearable.He learned that night that it is often a gooddeal easier to fight than to wait.

At last a harsh voice rose from the gloom.

"You'll have to get out, Oliver," it said."Clear out in your sloop with the folks youhave with you and we'll let you go. You'remighty lucky in getting the option."

"And what about the ranch?" Mr. Oliverasked.

"We'll tend to it," another man answeredpointedly. "Pitch your guns through thewindow and come out right now!"

"You're wasting time," replied Mr.Oliver, "I'm going to stay."

"Then you'll certainly be sorry," some oneelse broke in. "We've had about enoughtrouble right along with you and we'vecome to hand in the bill. You headed usoff a good trade, you brought the revenuefolks in, and we mean to get even beforewe leave. Just now we'll be satisfied withyour homestead, but that won't be enoughafter the next shot's fired."

It was a grim warning and what made itmore impressive to Frank was the fact thathe could not see the man who uttered it.So far, the smugglers had only revealedtheir presence by their voices. The nextmoment there was a cry of pain or alarmand a rifle flashed.

"Kill that blamed dog," somebody orderedwith an oath.

Then Mr. Oliver called to Harry, who hadgone to the window across the room.

"Can you see anybody on that side?" heasked.

"No," was the answer. "I think they're allin front."

Mr. Oliver turned to Jake. "Slip out

through the back window with the boysand work around to the stumps. From thereyou'll have those fellows clear against thelight. Wait until the shooting starts—andthen do what you can."

"Sure!" was the short answer, and Jakecrossed the room.

Harry had already dropped from thewindow, and Frank promptly followedhim, feeling relieved now that he hadsomething definite to do. Circling aroundthrough the fruit trees they reached the firstrow of stumps, one end of which ran uprather close to the house. As Frankcrouched down among the roots of one hesaw the smugglers. There were six orseven of them visible along the edge of thetrees, though he fancied that there were

more of them farther back in the shadows,which grew thinner and then more denseagain as the light rose and fell. Still,before the men could reach the house theywould have to cross a clear space wherethe glow was brighter, which they wereevidently reluctant to do. Their hesitationwas very natural, since they haddiscovered that their opponent wasunusually quicksighted and handy with therifle.

A few moments after the boys reached thestumps a great blaze shot up as part of thebarn fell in, and Frank saw a man whoseemed to be the leader of the gang runforward, heading toward the back of thehouse. As he did so Frank recognized himand Harry cried out softly, for one of the

runner's shoulders was higher than theother and he had a rather curious gait.Then there was a shout from one of thosebehind.

"Plug the brute! Look out for the dog!"

A low and very swift shadow flashedacross the open space behind the man.Harry laughed hoarsely as the man wentdown and rolled over with an indistinctobject apparently on his back. He criedout, there was a confused shouting, andsome of his companions came runningtoward him, showing black against thelight. Frank held his breath as he watched.He expected to see two flashes from thewindow, since Mr. Webster and Mr.Oliver had now an easy mark, but they didnot fire. The next moment he shrank in

sudden horror, for the cries grew sharperand suggested pain and an extremity offear. Then he felt that, regardless of thehazard, he could almost have cheered thesmugglers on as they ran toward theprostrate man, who was struggling vainlywith the furious dog. They surged abouthim in a confused group, and just then, toFrank's amazement, a pistol flashed amongthe firs on the edge of the bush. It wasfollowed by a sudden clamor, whereuponthe group broke up, and running menstreamed out across the clearing. Thesmugglers vanished, and Harry sprang outfrom among the stumps shouting wildly.

"It's Barclay! He's brought a posse withhim!" he cried. "Come on. We must chokeoff the dog."

When they reached the spot they tried withall their might to drag back the furiousanimal. The man, who had flung his armsabout his throat and face, now lay still,with the big and powerful animal stilltearing at him. It was not until Jakearrived and partly stunned it with his riflebutt that it let go, and then two or threebreathless strangers came running up tothem. They dragged the smuggler to hisfeet and Frank saw that his jacket was tornto pieces and that the back of his neckfrom which it fell away was red. He didnot seem capable of speaking and he drewhis breath in gasps, but the newcomershustled him along between them towardthe house.

"Stick to him," said Harry. "He's the boss

of the gang."

They thrust the man into the kitchen, wherehe fell into a chair and, for the lamp waslighted now, gazed at Mr. Oliver stupidly.

"Well," he said, "I'm corralled—my gun'sin the clearing." He raised his hand to hisneck and brought it down smeared redbefore he added, "It's mighty lucky hedidn't get hold in front."

Mr. Oliver, who made no answer, swungaround and faced Mr. Barclay standing hotand breathless in the doorway smiling atthem.

"It's fortunate I came along," he said, andstriding forward glanced at the man in thechair. "We've got you at last."

"Sure!" admitted the other, still in a half-dazed manner. "I'll have to face it—onlykeep off that dog."

Mr. Barclay looked around at Mr. Oliver."I expect the boys have also got most ofhis partners. Before we broke cover I senta party to head them off."

Harry suddenly called to Frank, whosprang toward the door, but when theyreached the bush they met the rest of themen coming back with several prisoners.They reported that two or three hadescaped and they would have to wait fordaylight before following their trail.

Half an hour later the boys sat down againin the kitchen where Mr. Oliver and Mr.Barclay, who had been out in the

meanwhile, were talking by the stove.

"I'd an idea that these fellows might lookyou up, which was why I came along asfast as I could manage," Mr. Barclay wasexplaining. "I think I told you we gotpractically every man who was waitingfor the schooner at the inlet, and the twoor three who escaped to-night won't count.In the meanwhile I'd arranged at two orthree different places to seize everybodywe suspected of having a hand in the thing,and if the boys I left that work to havebeen as lucky as we are we can take it forgranted that we have put an end to thegang. There's enough against the fellowthe dog mauled to have him sent up for therest of his life." He broke off and turned tothe boys. "The schooner will be sold by

auction, and if you are inclined to leavethe matter in my hands you can give me awritten claim for salvage services."

"How much should we put down?" Harryasked.

"I would suggest three thousand dollars,"responded Mr. Barclay with twinklingeyes. "It doesn't follow that you'll beawarded the whole of it, but it's generallyadmitted that one shouldn't be too modestin sending in a claim. If you two becomepartners you could buy a ranch."

Harry turned with a smile to Frank."Well," he said, "if you're willing, wemight consider it in a year or two."

Then one of the men came in to report that

the prisoners had been secured in thestable. Mr. Barclay soon dismissed himwith a few brief instructions and sat downagain, lighting a cigar.

"I don't know that there's much more totell," he said. "When we were a mile ortwo off the cove we saw the blaze of yourbarn, and that gave us an idea of what wasgoing on. We sent the steamer along asfast as she could travel, but I broke myposse up to surround the clearing as soonas we got ashore. Then we lay by andwaited so as to get as many of the gang aspossible. They were too busy watchingyou to notice any little noise the boysmade, and on the whole I think we can becontent with this night's work."

"Have you decided what led up to the

shooting of that man in the schooner'scabin?" Harry asked.

"That," said Mr. Barclay, "is a matter forthe criminal court, but I've made a fewinvestigations, and my notion is that thefellows lost their nerve when it becameevident that somebody had given themaway. They suspected one another, andthat led to trouble, while I've no doubt thatthe Chinaman held most of the secrets ofthe gang. He'd be a particular object ofsuspicion, but from what I can gather therewas a general row during which she jibedand got ashore. There was, at least, oneother man badly hurt, but they seem tohave gone off in the same boat. The vesselprobably struck on an outlying reef andcame off almost immediately on the rising

tide."

Frank went out soon afterward and satdown near the house. The fire had almostburned out and a light wind which hadsprung up drove the last of the smoke theother way. The air that flowed about theboy was sweet and scented with thefragrance of pine and cedar. All aroundhim the bush rose in somber masses and afaint elfin sighing fell from the tops of thetall black trees. It was the song of thewilderness and the wild and rugged landhad steadily tightened its hold on him. Ashe sat and listened he was certain at lastthat he would never leave it to go back tothe cities.

CHAPTER XXXIFRANK BECOMES A

RANCH OWNER

Three or four days had passed since theattack on the ranch when one afternoon theboys stood on the deck of the sloop. Brightsunshine streamed down on the cove andthere was a brisk breeze. The boys hadgone down to hoist the mainsail so that itwould dry, as it had been rolled up dampwhen last used; and as Frank straightenedhimself after stooping to coil up the gearhe noticed that a man stood at the edge ofthe water with a small camera in his hand.

"Look, Harry!" he exclaimed softly, as hiscompanion crawled from behind the sail.

"Hello!" called Harry. "What do youwant?"

"Keep still!" commanded the strangersharply. Then he raised his hand. "That'sall right! Now you may move if you like."

"So may you!" Harry answered with achuckle. "In fact, I guess you better had!"

There was an ominous growl somewhereabove the man and then a savage barking,as the dog—who had followed the boys tothe cove and afterward wandered away—came scrambling furiously down the steeppath. The man seemed to watch itsapproach with anxiety, and when it came

toward him growling he stooped andpicked up a big stone.

"Hold on!" Harry shouted. "Put down thatstone! He doesn't like strangers, and you'dbetter not rile him."

The man did as he was bidden, but when itlooked as if the dog would drive him intothe water Frank dropped into the canoe.To his astonishment, the stranger suddenlyheld the camera in front of him and backedaway a few paces, pointing it like a pistolat the growling dog, who seemed toosurprised to follow. Then Frank ran thecanoe ashore and told the man to get inwhile he drove off the dog.

"He's young," explained Frank. "Somehowwe haven't managed to tame him."

He headed for the sloop, and the man goton board.

"You seem stuck on taking photographs,"Harry remarked.

"I make a little out of them now and then,"the stranger answered with a smile."You're Harry Oliver?"

"That's my name."

"Then your friend is Frank Whitney?"

"Yes," replied Harry. "But you haven'tanswered my question yet."

"I wanted to have a talk with your father;but I find that he's out."

"He won't be back until to-night; and,

while we'd be glad to give you supper, itreally wouldn't be worth while to wait.He doesn't want any fruit trees—the lastwe bought from outsiders had been dug uptoo long. He's full up with implements,and we're not open to buy anything."

The stranger laughed good-humoredly.

"Hadn't you better wait until you're asked?I'm not drumming up orders." Then hechanged the subject. "You've had troublehere lately, haven't you? From what Igather, your father has done a smart andcourageous thing in holding off that opiumgang."

Harry thawed and fell into the trap. Hewas not addicted to saying much about hisown exploits, but he was proud of his

father, and the man discovered this fromhis hesitating answer. It was the latter'sbusiness to draw people out, and sittingdown in the shelter of the coaming hecleverly led the boy on to talk. Frank triedto warn his companion once or twice, butfailed, and soon the stranger drew himalso into the conversation. Some time hadslipped away when the man finally rose.

"I'm sorry I missed your father," he said,"but as I want to catch the steamer thatcalls at the settlement to-night, I must begetting back."

Harry paddled him ashore, and when hereturned with the dog Frank grinned athim.

"That fellow hasn't told you his business

yet, and I've a pretty strong suspicion thathe's a newspaper man."

Harry started and frowned.

"Then if he prints all that stuff I've toldhim it's a sure thing that dad will bejumping mad. Didn't you know enough tocall me off?"

"You wouldn't stop," Frank answered,laughing. "I kept on winking for the firstfive minutes, and then somehow hegathered me in too. He's smart at hisbusiness."

"I guess we'd better not say anything aboutthe thing," decided Harry thoughtfully."Anyway, not until we know whether youare right."

They went ashore soon afterward; and afew days later Mr. Webster called at theranch.

"Have you Barclay's address?" he askedMr. Oliver. "I want to write him."

Mr. Oliver gave it to him, and Mr.Webster continued:

"They're getting up a supper at thesettlement, and the stewards would like tohave you and the boys come. They'reasking everybody between here andCarthew."

"What do they want to get up a supperfor?"

Mr. Webster hesitated.

"Well," he said, "among other things, thenew man is opening his big fruit ranch,and we've just heard that there's asteamboat wharf to be built and a newwagon trail made. Things are looking up,and the boys feel that they ought to have acelebration."

"All right," assented Mr. Oliver, "the boysand I will be on hand."

A few minutes later Mr. Webster startedhome, and then Frank opened a letter hehad brought him. He was astonished whenhe read it.

"It's from Mr. Marston, who got me theposition with the milling company—he's arelative of ours," he informed Mr. Oliver."It appears that he is in Portland on

business—shipping Walla wheat—and hesays that he promised my mother he'd lookme up if he had time. He may be hereshortly."

"We'd be glad to see him," Mr. Oliveranswered cordially. "It isn't a very longway to Portland."

Frank, however, had no further word fromMr. Marston; and in due time the eveningof the supper arrived. Mr. Oliver and theboys sailed up to the settlement. Landingin the darkness, they found the little hotelblazing with light. The night was mild, anda hum of voices and bursts of laughterdrifted out from the open windows of thewooden building. On entering the veranda,they were greeted by the man who hadkept the store when Frank first visited the

settlement.

"I'm glad to see that you're better," Mr.Oliver remarked.

"Thanks!" replied the other. "I've just gotdown from Seattle—the doctors havepatched me up. It's time I was back atbusiness—things have been getting prettymixed while I was away." Then hechanged the subject. "The boys wouldmake me chairman of this affair, andthey're waiting. You're only just on time."

"The wind fell light," said Mr. Oliver."As there seems to be a good many ofthem, they needn't have waited for myparty if we hadn't come."

"Oh," laughed the storekeeper, "they

couldn't begin without—you."

Mr. Oliver looked slightly astonished; butthere was another surprise in store for himand the boys when they entered the largestroom in the building. It was, for once,brilliantly lighted; and crossed firbranches hung on the rudely match-boarded wall, with the azure and silverand crimson of the flag gleaming here andthere among them. Frank could understandthe attempt to decorate the place, because,as a matter of fact, it needed it; but he didnot see why the double row of menstanding about the long table should breakout into an applauding murmur as Mr.Oliver walked in. Most of them had lean,brown faces and toil-hardened hands, andwere dressed in duck with a cloth jacket

over it and with boots that reached to theknees, but there were two or three inwhite shirts and neat cloth suits.

"Boys," said the storekeeper, "our guesthas now arrived. Though he tells me thewind fell light, he's here on time, which iswhat we've always found him to be in allhis doings." He waved Mr. Oliver to thehead of the table. "That's your place. It'smy duty to welcome you on behalf of theassembled company."

There was an outbreak of applause, andMr. Oliver looked around with a smile.

"Thank you, boys," he beamed; "but I don'tquite understand. I just came here to talkto you and get my supper."

Amid the laughter that followed therewere many voices answering him.

"You'll get it, sure! To-night we'll do thetalking—Sproat's been practicingspeeches on the innocent trees all day, andBentley's most as good as a gramophone.We're mighty glad to have you! Sit rightdown!"

The storekeeper raised his hand forsilence.

"You're our guest, Mr. Oliver, and that'sall there is to it." He turned to the othersand lowered his voice confidentially. "Iguess Webster didn't explain the thing tohim. Our friend's backward on someoccasions—he doesn't like a fuss—andit's quite likely that if he'd known what to

expect he wouldn't have come."

There was another burst of laughter; andwhen Mr. Oliver had taken his place, withthe boys seated near him, Frank noticedfor the first time that Mr. Barclayoccupied a chair close by. Then he alsosaw that Mr. Marston, who had written tohim, sat almost opposite across the table.

"I got here this afternoon and was trying tohire a horse when I heard that you wereexpected at this feast," the latter said."Your people were in first-rate healthwhen I left them."

It was difficult to carry on a conversationacross the table, and Frank turned hisattention to the meal, which was the besthe had sat down to since he reached the

bush. By and by the storekeeper stood up.

"Now," he said, "as most of you have laidin a solid foundation, we can talk over thedessert; and I want to remind you that wehave several reasons for celebrating thisoccasion. A start at growing fruit on a bigscale has just been made; we're to have awharf; and there's a wagon trail to bebridged and graded. All this brings younearer the market. You have held on andput up a good fight with rocks and trees,and now when you'll have no trouble inturning your produce into money you'regoing to reap the reward of it. But that'snot our main business to-night."

There was an encouraging murmur, and hewent on:

"We had a few bad men round thissettlement—toughs, who had no use forwork. Folks of their kind are like the fever—they're infectious—and it's a kind ofcurious thing that for a while the bad mangenerally comes out on top. His trouble isthat he can't stay there, for something bigand heavy is surely going to fall on himsooner or later. Still, those men had a bigcombine at the back of them and they gothold. They'd have kept it longer, only thatone man had a bigger head than most of us.He'll tell you that the one straight way toget money is to work for it, and that thefolks who begin by robbing theGovernment end by robbing everybodyelse. He found the combine up againsthim, but while some of us backed down hestood fast. He wouldn't be fooled or

bullied, and, though he didn't go roundsaying so, when the time came that big andwell-handled combine went down. Nowit's my pleasant duty to offer your thanks toMr. Oliver for freeing you from whatwould have been the ugliest kind oftyranny."

He sat down amid applause, and anotherman got up.

"I'm glad to second that," he announced."We were easy with the opium gang whenthey began. It was pleasant to get a roll ofbills now and then for just leaving a teamhandy and saying nothing if we found acase in the stable; but we didn't see wherethat led." He stopped and turned to Mr.Barclay, who was smiling at him. "What'dyou say, sir?"

"It struck me that you were forgetting whatmy profession is," Mr. Barclay answereddryly. "You're not compelled to giveyourself and your friends away."

This remark was followed by laughter;then the speaker proceeded:

"Anyhow, the dope boys began to changetheir tone. At first, they paid and askedfavors; but when they got folks so theycouldn't go back on them they ordered, andseldom paid at all. It was getting what myfriend calls tyranny, and the small man hadto stand in and ask the gang for leave tolive. We'd have been in a mighty tightplace now if one rancher hadn't boldlystood out. That's why we're offering ourbest thanks to Mr. Oliver, who got up andfought the gang."

There was a shout that set the shinglesrattling overhead, and when it died awayMr. Oliver, who looked embarrassed,said a few simple words, which werefollowed by riotous applause. Then Franklooking around saw that a sheet ofnewspaper with three pictures on it waspinned to the wall.

"What's that thing?" he asked, leaning backto touch Harry. "You're nearer it."

One of the men took the paper down andhanded it to him.

"Well," he drawled, "I guess you ought toknow your own likeness."

Frank gasped as he took the paper, for thetwo portraits at the top of it were of Harry

and himself, and underneath themappeared the dog. There was aconspicuous black heading over them.

"The modest salvors of the opiumschooner, and their dog," it read.

Beneath this there was about a columndealing with Mr. Oliver's exploits andtheir own. Frank glanced at parts of it withblank astonishment.

"You never told him all that stuff," hedeclared, passing it to Harry.

Mr. Oliver intercepted the paper, and hisexpression hinted at half-disgustedamusement.

"Didn't you know any better than to tell astory of this kind to a newspaper man?" he

asked. "Read a little of it!"

Harry's face flushed as he read.

"I didn't tell him half of it," he protested."Besides, I didn't know what he was."

Mr. Oliver laughed at last; and just thenanother man got up and made a speechabout Mr. Barclay, who rose and lookeddown the table with a quiet smile.

"I appreciate what you have said of mydoings, boys, and now I'll base my fewobservations on one of the first speaker'sremarks," he began. "He stated that theman who began by robbing theGovernment would end by robbingeverybody else; but he was wrong. Theman who robs the Government is robbing

every other citizen. Each of us is part of asystem that's built up, we believe, on therock of the constitution. Otherwise, if youwere merely individuals, doing just as youwished, obeying nobody, you could liveonly like the Indians, holding your ranchesand cattle—if you had them—with therifle. All commerce and security isfounded on the fact that we're not separatemen, but a nation. Well, the nation wantstroops, and warships, judges, courts,schools, and roads. It expects you to payyour share, since you get the benefit, andevery man who beats it out of one tax orduty is playing a mean game on andstealing from the rest. That's the one pointI want to make clear."

Then, to the confusion of Harry and Frank,

they were commended; and afterward thecompany broke up into groups to talk andsmoke. Mr. Oliver and the boys, Mr.Marston, Mr. Webster and Mr. Barclaystill sat together, and presently Mr.Barclay turned to the boys.

"I've some news for you," he announced."The schooner has been surveyed. She'svery little damaged, and the authorities,who have seized her, have decided toallow your claim in full. As soon as she'ssold, they'll forward you a treasuryorder."

"And we'll really get all that money?"Frank asked with a gasp.

"It seems pretty certain."

The blood rushed into Frank's face.

"It would go a long way toward buying asmall, half-cleared ranch," he exclaimedjoyfully.

"I've one to sell," laughed Mr. Webster."You can have it cheap."

"Are you serious?" Mr. Oliver inquired.

"Sure!" was the answer. "I never wasmuch good at ranching, and the place istoo small to feed more than a few head ofstock. It might pay growing fruit; but if Idid any planting now I'd have to wait threeor four years before I got any returnsworth while, and I was always kind ofsmart at carpentering. I could get contractsfor building log bridges and cutting wharf

piles now, and I'd let the ranch go at avery moderate price."

"How much do you want?"

When Mr. Webster told him, Mr. Oliverconsidered the matter for a few moments.

"I'll have to start Harry in another three orfour years, and if we put in a lot of youngtrees they'd be in good bearing by thattime," he said thoughtfully. "We couldwork the place from our own ranch in themeanwhile; but I'm afraid I can't raise theprice you ask. Would you let part standover on a mortgage?"

"I can't do that," was the reply, "though I'dlike to oblige you. You see, if I'm tohandle those contracts properly, I must

have the money to buy tools and to paywages. But suppose we appoint twovaluers to fix a figure."

The boys had been listening intently, andFrank broke in:

"Harry and I have decided to go partnersin a ranch some day, and there's thesalvage money."

"It wouldn't be enough," said Mr. Oliverregretfully.

Mr. Marston touched Mr. Oliver'sshoulder.

"I'd like a few words with you privately."

They crossed the room, and after talkingfor a while in low tones Mr. Marston

beckoned Frank, who had been waiting intense excitement. Mr. Marston was amiddle-aged business man, with keen eyesand a thoughtful face, and he looked atFrank steadily.

"Sit down and listen to me," he said."Because I'm a relative of yours and alsobecause I had a great respect for yourfather, I meant from the beginning to helpyou along. On the other hand, I've seenyoung men spoiled by knowing that theyhad friends ready to give them a lift, and Idecided to let you make the best fight youcould, for a year or two. That's why I sentyou to the flour mill, instead of putting youinto something easier; and I may say that Iwasn't altogether pleased when you leftit."

"I was turned out, sir," Frank correctedhim with some color in his face.

Mr. Marston smiled.

"We'll let it go at that. The main thing isthat you didn't come back for help.Instead, you made another start foryourself; and you seem to have done wellhere. According to a newspaper whichI've read, you have even distinguishedyourself lately." He laughed before heproceeded. "Anyway, you have shown thatone could have some confidence in you."

"Thank you, sir."

Mr. Marston raised his hand.

"Let me finish. Before I left Boston I wentover your mother's business affairs, and

by and by I think she could give you—we'll say a thousand dollars; you haveyour share of the salvage payment; andMr. Oliver is willing to lay out somemoney on his son's account. Well, I'll findthe balance—on a mortgage—but you'llhave to make the ranch pay, or"—and hesmiled—"I'll certainly foreclose and turnyou out."

Frank tried to thank him, but he could findvery little to say in his excitement. ThenMr. Marston called Harry.

"I understand that you are anxious to takeMr. Webster's ranch with Frank, andwould be willing to work it under yourfather's direction until the youngest of youis twenty-one. Is that correct?"

Harry's face was glowing.

"Yes, sir," he answered eagerly. "We'll dowhat we can."

"Then if your father and Mr. Webster willgo down to Seattle with me, we'll get thetransfer made and a deed drawn up to fixthe thing."

Frank could never remember what he saidor did during the next few minutes, but itwas the proudest and happiest time he hadspent in his life. Then he turned to Mr.Marston and Mr. Oliver, who werestanding near.

"I'll have very little time to spare afterthis," he said, "and I should like to spend alittle of the salvage money going back to

Boston to see my mother and the othersbefore I begin."

"Of course!" ejaculated Mr. Marston. "Avery proper thing! You needn't wait untilMr. Barclay sends you his order. I'llarrange your ticket."

He moved away, and shortly afterward thecompany dispersed.

A week later Frank and Harry and Jakesailed out in the sloop to intercept thesouth-bound steamer. She came up, withside-wheels churning a broad track offoam and her smoke trail streaming astern.When her engines stopped, Frank andHarry dropped into the canoe and in a fewminutes they were alongside. Frank swunghimself up on board and then looked back

at the canoe.

"Have a good time!" cried Harry. "Thebest you can! You'll have to work whenyou come back!"

"You'll see me in six weeks," Frankanswered with a wave of his hand; and thecanoe dropped astern as the enginesstarted and the steamer forged ahead.

THE END

Transcriber's Note: The followingtypographical errors present in theoriginal text have been corrected.

In Chapter II, "the trail the followed" waschanged to "the trail they followed".

In Chapter IX, "he an Jake set off" waschanged to "he and Jake set off".

In Chapter X, a missing period was addedafter "against the beams".

In Chapter XI, a missing period wasadded after "his little cloth cap".

In Chapter XVII, "a lump of iron with arope mast fast to it" was changed to "alump of iron with a rope made fast to it".

In Chapter XIX, "I don't thing it would be

wise" was changed to "I don't think itwould be wise".

In Chapter XXIII, "the nearest office I coulhave reached" was changed to "the nearestoffice I could have reached".

The word "postoffice" is spelled in thetext both with and without a hyphen. Eachinstance has been left as it appeared in theoriginal text.

End of Project Gutenberg's The BoyRanchers of Puget Sound, by HaroldBindloss

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