atist and erred in showing too keen a desire to
secure a specimen of the other's handwriting, which is a delicate thing
to press an unskilful forger for. Wandle was on his guard, though he
carefully hid all sign of uneasiness.

"Well," he said, "I'll send you a list over in a day or two; after all,
if I think them over, I may be able to knock something off one or two of
the items. But now you're here, I want to say that you were pretty mean
about that cultivator. They're not sold at the price you allowed me."

This was intended to lead Prescott away from the main point and it
succeeded, because, being at a loss for an excuse for demanding the list
immediately, he was willing to speak of something else while he thought
of one.

"You're wrong," he said curtly. "You can get them at any big dealer's. I
looked in at a western store where they stock those machines, yesterday,
and the fellow gave me his schedule."

He had taken off his mittens, but his hands were stiff with cold, and
when he felt in his pocket he dropped several of the papers he brought
out. The back of a catalogue fell uppermost, and it bore the words,
"Hasty's high-grade implements, Navarino." Near this lay an envelope
printed with the name of a Navarino hotel.

There was nothing to show that Wandle had noticed them--he stood some
distance off on the opposite side of the table--but Prescott was too
eager in gathering them up. Opening the catalogue, he read out a
description of the cultivator and the price.

"Taking the cash discount, it comes to a dollar less than what I was
ready to pay you," he said. "Now make out the list and we'll try to get
the thing fixed up before I go."

Wandle sat down for a few moments, for he had received a shock. His
suspicions had already been aroused, and Prescott's motive in going to
Navarino was obvious; besides, he thought he had read Laxton's name on
the envelope. He could expect no mercy--Prescott's face was ominously
grim--and there was no doubt that, having seen Laxton, he knew who had
hidden the brown clothes. The game was up, but, shaken by fear and rage
as he was, he rose calmly from his seat.

"Well, since you insist on it, I guess I'll have to write the thing; but
I can't leave my team standing in the frost. Sit down and take a smoke
while I put them in."

Prescott could not object to this. He lighted his pipe when Wandle left
him. He heard the door shut and the horses being led away, for the stable
stood