get there soon after daylight, as they won't strike the bluff until
it's dark, but there's thick brush in the ravine the trail follows for
the last few miles. It won't matter if they light out, because Flett
will pick up their trail. I'll send for him right off, but he could
hardly get through before morning."

The party broke up shortly afterward, and George rode home, wondering
why he had allowed himself to become involved in what might prove to be
a troublesome matter. His ideas on the subject were not very clear,
but he felt that Flora Grant had expected him to take a part. Then he
had been impressed in Hardie's favor; the man was in earnest, ready to
court popular hostility, but he was nevertheless genial and free from
dogmatic narrow-mindedness. Behind all this, there was in George a
detestation of vicious idleness and indulgence, and a respect for right
and order. Since he had been warned that the badly-kept hotel
sheltered a gang of loafers plotting mischief and willing to prey upon
men who toiled strenuously, he was ready for an attempt to turn them
out. He agreed with Grant: the gang must be put down.




CHAPTER X

THE LIQUOR-RUNNERS

Dusk was closing in when George and the hired man whom Grant had sent
with him reached the bluff and tethered their horses where they would
be hidden among the trees. This done, George stood still for a few
moments, looking about. A dark, cloud-barred sky hung over the