CHAPTER XII

HOW THE TRAP WAS BAITED


It was the evening of the day after Harry, who had insisted on trudging
up and down the line all day, instead of using his horse, had a touch of
heat headache.

He was not in a serious condition, but he needed rest. He dropped into
one of the chairs on the Cactus House porch and prepared to doze.

"Is there anything I can get for you, or do for you, old chap?" inquired
Tom, coming out on the porch after supper and looking remarkably
comfortable and contented.

"No; just let me doze," begged Harry. "I feel a trifle drowsy."

"Then, if you're going to give a concert through your nose," smiled Tom,
"I may as well protect myself by going some distance away."

"Go along."

"I believe I'll take a walk. Probably, too, the ice cream man will be
richer when I get back."

Tom went down into the street and sauntered along. He had walked but a
few blocks when he met another young man in white ducks.