away. This platform was a world in itself. It sent arms everywhere among
the piles of lumber, and once or twice I was as much lost as I had been up
in the forest.

While turning into one of these byways I came suddenly upon Buell and
another man. They were standing near a little house of weather-strips,
evidently an office, and were in their shirt-sleeves. They had not seen or
heard me. I dodged behind a pile of planks, intending to slip back the way
I had come. Before I could move Buell's voice rooted me to the spot.

"His name's Ward. Tall, well-set lad. I put Greaser after him the other
night, hopin' to scare him back East. But nix!"

"Well, he's here now--to study forestry! Ha! ha!" said the other.

"You're sure the boy you mean is the one I mean?"

"Greaser told me so. And this boy is Leslie's friend."

"That's the worst of it," replied Buell, impatiently. "I've got Leslie
fixed as far as this lumber deal is concerned, but he won't stand for any
more. He was harder to fix than the other rangers, an' I'm afraid of him."
he's grouchy now.

"You shouldn't have let the boy get here."

"Stockton, I tried to prevent it. I put Greaser with Bud an' Bill on his
trail. They didn't find him, an' now here he turns up."

"Maybe he can be fixed."