d a two-hour
lay-over in Alta Vista yesterday while the D. & U. P. people were
transferring your freight. How many drinks did you take in those two
hours?"

"Before God, Mr. Ballard, I never touched a drop! I don't say I'm too
good to do it: I ain't. But any man that'd go crookin' his elbow when he
had that mountain run ahead of him would be _all_ fool!"

"That's so," said Ballard. And then: "That will do. Go and turn in again
and sleep the clock around. I'll tell you what is going to happen to you
when you're better fit to hear it."

"Well?" queried Bromley, when Hoskins was gone.

"Say your say, and then I'll say mine," was Ballard's rejoinder.

"I should call it a pretty harsh joke on Hoskins, played by somebody
with more spite than common sense. There has been some little ill blood
between Fitzpatrick's men and the railroad gangs; more particularly
between the stone-cutters here at the dam and the train crews. It grew
out of Fitzpatrick's order putting his men on the water-wagon. When the
camp canteen was closed, the stone 'buckies' tried to open up a jug-line
from Alta Vista. The trainmen wouldn't stand for it against Macpherson's
promise to fire the first 'boot-legger' he caught."

"And you think one of the stone-cutters went down from the camp to give
Hoskins a jolt?"

"That is my guess."

Ballard laughed.

"Mine isn't quite as practical, I'll admit; but I believe it is the
right one. I've been probing Hoskins's record quietly, and his long suit
is superstition. Half the 'hoodoo' talk of the camp can be traced back
to him if you'll take the trouble. He confessed just now that he never
passed that point in the road without thinking of Braithwaite and his
taking-off. From that to seeing things isn't a very long step."

Bromley made the sign of acquiescence.

"I'd rather accept your hypothesis than mine, Breckenridge. I'd hate to
believe that we have the other kind of a fool on the job; a man who
would deliberately make scare medicine to add to that which is already
made. What will you do with Hoskins?"

"Let him work in the repair shop for a while, till he gets the fever out
of his blood. I don't want to discharge him."

"Good. Now that is settled, will you take a little walk with me? I want
to show you something."

Ballard found his pipe and filled it, and they went out together. It was
a perfect summer afternoon, still and cloudless, and with the peculiar
high-mountain resonance in the air that