n read the type-written note and glanced
back at the sheriff's posse just emerging from the canyon portal.

"What will you do?" he asked; and Ballard came alive with a start and
shook his head.

"I don't know: if we could manage to overtake that auto.... But it's too
late now to do anything, Bigelow. I've made my complaint and sworn out
the warrants. Beckwith will serve them--he's obliged to serve them."

"Of course," said Bigelow; and together they waited for the sheriff's
posse to close up.

XIII

THE LAW AND THE LADY

It touched a little spring of wonderment in the Forestry man when
Ballard made the waiting halt merely an excuse for a word of
leave-taking with Sheriff Beckwith; a brittle exchange of formalities in
which no mention was made of the incident of the brush barrier and the
type-written note.

"You have your warrants, and you know your way around in the valley; you
won't need me," was the manner in which the young engineer drew out of
the impending unpleasantness. "When you have taken your prisoners to the
county seat, the company's attorneys will do the rest."

Beckwith, being an ex-cattleman, was grimly sarcastic.

"This is my job, and I'll do it up man-size and b'ligerent, Mr. Ballard.
But between us three and the gate-post, you ain't goin' to make anything
by it--barrin' a lot o' bad blood. The old colonel 'll give a bond and
bail his men, and there you are again, right where you started from."

"That's all right; I believe in the law, and I'm giving it a chance,"
snapped Ballard; and the two parties separated, the sheriff's posse
taking the river road, and Ballard leading the way across country in the
direction of Fitzpatrick's field headquarters.

Rather more than half of the distance from the canyon head to the camp
had been covered before the boy, Carson, had lagged far enough behind to
give Bigelow a chance for free speech with Ballard, but the Forestry man
improved the opportunity as soon as it was given him.

"You still believe there is no hope of a compromise?" he began. "What
the sheriff said a few minutes ago is quite true, you know. The cow-boys
will be back in a day or two, and it will make bad blood."

"Excuse me," said Ballard, irritably; "you are an onlooker, Mr. Bigelow,
and you can afford to pose as a peacemaker. But I've had all I can
stand. If Colonel Craigmiles can't control his flap-hatted bullies,
we'll try to help him. There is a week's work for half a hundr