"I know, an' I'm afraid of Leslie. An' that other fire-ranger, Jim
Williams, he's a Texan, an' a bad man. The two of them could about trim up
this camp. They'll both fight for the boy; take that from me."

"We are sure up against it. Think now, and think quick."

"First, I'll try to fix the boy. If that won't work . . . we'll kidnap him.
Then we'll take no chances with Leslie. There's a cool two hundred an'
fifty thousand in this deal for us, an' we're goin' to get it."

With that Buell went into his office and closed the door; the other man,
Stockton, walked briskly down the platform. I could not resist peeping from
my hiding-place as he passed. He was tall and had a red beard, which would
enable me to recognize him if we met.

I waited there for some little time. Then I saw that by squeezing between
two plies of lumber could reach the other side of the platform. When I
reached the railing I climbed over, and, with the help of braces and posts,
soon got to where I could drop down. Once on the ground I ran along under
the platform until I saw a lane that led to the street. My one thought was
to reach the cabin where the Negro cook stayed and ask him if Dick Leslie
had come to camp. If he had not arrived, then I intended to make a bee-line
for my mustang.



VI. DICK LESLIE, RANGER

Which end of the street I entered I had no idea. The cabins were all alike,
and in my hurry I would have passed the cook's shack had it not been for