and if we're mistaken there will be no harm done. I'll tell you an idea
that popped into my head a minute ago. We can pretend to locate the
stuff. Fix up a couple of dummy sacks, you know, and get them to camp
and packed on the horse without letting them see what's inside. If Lyn
gave Lessard the right figures, there should be between a hundred and
forty or fifty pounds of dust. It's small in bulk, but weighty as a bad
conscience. If we had a couple of little sacks we could get around that
problem, easy enough--this black sand along the river would pass for
gold-dust in weight. We could make the proper sort of play, and give
them the chance they're looking for. If they make a break it'll be up to
us to get the best of the trouble."

"It might work," I replied. "If you think it would make them tip their
hand, I'm with you. This watch-the-other-fellow business is making me
nervous as an old woman. Once we had those two dead to rights they might
let out something that would enable us to land the whole bunch, and the
plunder besides; once we had them rounded up we could come back here and
hunt for Hank Rowan's gold-dust in peace."

"You've got the idea exactly, and we'll see what we can do in the
morning," Mac returned. "But don't get married to the notion that
they'll cough up all they know, right off the reel. Hicks might, if you
went at him hard enough. But not the other fellow. Gregory's game clear
through--he's demonstrated that in different ways since I've been in the
Force. You could carve him to pieces without hearing a cheep, if he
decided to keep his mouth shut. And he's about as dangerous a man in a
scrimmage as I know. If there's a row, don't overlook Mr. Gregory."

We hoofed it toward camp as briskly as our galled feet would permit, for
the sun was getting close to the sky line, and talked over Mac's scheme