Baker held up his hand. "Let's not exchange thinks," said he. "I've got a few thinks coming myself, you know. Let's stick to facts. Then the Government is going to open up on us?" "Yes." "On the grounds of fraudulent entry, I suppose." "That's it." "Well, they'll never win -" "Let's not exchange thinks," Bob reminded him. "Right! I can see that you're acting under orders, and the suit must be brought. Now I tell you frankly, as one Modern Woods-pussy of the World to another, that you're the only fellow that has any real testimony. What I want to know is, are you going to use it?" Bob looked at his companion steadily. "I don't see why, even without witnesses, I should give away government plans to you, Baker." Baker sighed, and slid from the boulder. "I'm practically certain how the cat jumps, and I've long since made my plans accordingly. Whatever you say does not alter my course of action. Only I hate to do a man an injustice without being sure. You needn't answer. Your last remark means that you are. I have too much sense to do the little Eva to you, Orde. You've got the gray stuff in your head, even if it is a trifle wormy. Of course, it's no good telling you that you're going back on a friend, that you'll be dragging Welton into the game when he hasn't got a chip to enter with, that you're betraying private confidence — well, I guess the rest is all 'thinks."" "I'm sorry, Baker," said Bob, "and I suppose I must appear to be a spy in the matter. But it can't be helped." Baker's good-humoured, fat face had fallen into grave lines. He studied a distant spruce tree for a moment. "Well," he roused himself at last, "I wish this particular attack of measles had passed off before you bucked up against us. Because, you know, that land's ours, and we don't expect to give it up on account of this sort of fool agitation. We'll win this case. I'm sorry you're mixed up in it." "Saleratus Bill?" hinted Bob. Baker's humorous expression returned. "What do you take me for?" he grinned. "No, that's Oldham's bodyguard. Thinks he needs a bodyguard these days. That's what comes from having a bad conscience, I tell him. Some of those dagoes he's sold bum farms to are more likely to show up with a desire to abate him, than that anything would happen to him in these hills. Now let's get this straight; the cases go on ?" "Yes." "And you testify?" "Yes." "And call Welton in for corroboration ?" "I hardly think that's necessary." "It will be, as you very well know. I just wanted to be sure how we stood toward each other. So long." He turned uncompromisingly away, and stumped off down the trail on his fat and sturdy legs. Bob looked after him amazed, at this sudden termination of the interview. He had anticipated argument, sophistry, appeal to old friendship, perhaps a more dark and doubtful approach. Though conscious throughout of Baker's contempt for what the promoter would call his childish impracticability, his disloyalty and his crankiness, Bob realized that all of this had been carefully subdued. Baker's manner at parting expressed more of regret than of anger or annoyance. T XVIII O this short and inconclusive interview, however, The agent used none of the circumspection Baker had considered necessary, but rode openly into camp and asked for Bob. The latter, remembering Oldham's reputed antagonism to Baker, could not but admire the convenience of the arrangement. The lank and sinister figure of Saleratus Bill was observed to accompany that of the land agent, but the gun man, at a sign from his principal, did not dismount. He greeted no one, but sat easily across his saddle, holding the reins of both horses in his left hand, his jaws working slowly, his evil, little eyes, wandering with sardonic interest over the people and belongings at headquarters. Ware nodded to him. The man's eyes half closed and for an instant the motion of his jaw quickened. Otherwise he made no sign. Oldham drew Bob one side. "I want to talk to you where we won't be interrupted," he requested. "Talk on," said Bob, seating himself on a log. "The open is as good a place as another; you can see your eavesdroppers there." Oldham considered this a moment, then nodded his head, and took his place by the young man's side. "It's about those Modoc lands," said he. "I suppose so," said Bob. "Mr. Baker tells me you fully intend to prosecute a suit for their recovery." "I believe the Government intends to do so. I am, of course, only the agent of the Government in this or any other matter." "In other words, you have received orders to proceed?" "I would hardly be acting without them, would I?" "Of course; I see. Mr. Baker is sometimes hasty. Assuming that you cared to do so, is there no way you could avoid this necessity?" "None that I can discover. I must obey orders as long as I'm a government officer." "Exactly," said Oldham. "Now we reach the main issue. What if you were not a government officer ?" "But I am." "Assume that you were not." "Naturally my successor would carry out the same orders." "But," suggested Oldham, "it might very well be that another man would not be well, quite so qualified to carry out the case "You mean I'm the only one who heard Baker say he was going to cheat the Government," put in Bob bluntly. "You and Mr. Welton and Mr. Baker were the only ones present at a certain interview," he amended. "Now, in the event that you were not personally in charge of the case would you feel it necessary to volunteer testimony unsuspected by anybody but you three?" "If I were to resign, I should volunteer nothing," stated Bob. Oldham's frosty eyes gleamed with satisfaction behind their glasses. "That's good!" he cried. "But I have no intention of resigning," Bob concluded. "That is a matter open to discussion," Oldham took him up. "There are a great many reasons that you have not yet considered." "I'm ready to hear them," said Bob. "Look at the case as it stands. In the first place, you cannot but admit that Mr. Baker and the men associated with him have done great things for this country. When they came into it, it was an undeveloped wilderness, supplying nothing of value to civilization, and supporting only a scat tered and pastoral people. The valley towns went about their business on horse cars; they either paid practically a prohibitive price for electricity and gas, or used oil and candles; they drank well water and river water. The surrounding country was either a desert given over to sage brush and jack rabbits, or raised crops only according to the amount of rain that fell. You can have no conception, Mr. Orde, of the condition of the country in some of these regions before irrigation. In place of this the valley people now enjoy rapid transportation, not only through the streets of their towns, but also by trolley lines far out in all directions. They have cheap and abundant electric light and power. They possess pure drinking water. Above all they raise their certain crops irrespective of what rains the heavens may send." Bob admitted that electricity and irrigation are good things. "These advantages have drawn people. I am not going to bore you with a lot of statistics, but the population of all White Oaks County, for instance, is now above fifty thousand people, where before was a scant ten. But how much agricultural wealth do you suppose these people export each year? Not how much they produce, but their net exportations?" "Give it up." "Fifty million dollars worth! That's a marvellous per capita." "It is indeed," said Bob. "Now," said Oldham impressively, "that wealth would be absolutely non-existent, that development could not have taken place, did not take place, until men of Mr. Baker's genius and courage came along to take hold. I have personally the greatest admiration for Mr. Baker as a type of citizen without whom our resources and possibilities would be in the same backward condition as obtains in Canada." "I'm with you there," said Bob. "Mr. Baker has added a community to the state, cities to the commonwealth, millions upon millions of dollars to the |