laconically as
he pumped another shell into his gun.

* * * * *

I was balked, until I noticed a pair of telephone wires running from the
house to the tree to which one end of the chain was fastened.

"Is that a telephone to the house?" I demanded.

The Indian grunted an assent.

"Dr. Livermore telephoned me to come and see him," I said. "Can't I call
him up and see if he still wants to see me?"

The Indian debated the question with himself for a minute and then
nodded a doubtful assent. I cranked the old coffee mill type of
telephone which I found, and presently heard the voice of Dr. Livermore.

"This is Tom Faber, Doctor," I said. "The _Graphic_ sent me up to get a
story from you, but there's an Indian here who started to murder me when
I tried to get past your barricade."

"Good for him," chuckled the Doctor. "I heard the shot, but didn't know
that he was shooting at you. Tell him to talk to me."

The Indian took the telephone at my bidding and listened for a minute.

"You go in," he agreed when he hung up the receiver.

He took down the chain and I drove on up to the house, to find the
Doctor waiting for me on the veranda.

"Hello, Tom," he greeted me heartily. "So you had trouble with my guard,
did you?"

"I nearly got murdered," I said ruefully.

"I expect that Joe would have drilled you if you had tried to force your
way in," he remarked cheerfully. "I forgot to tell him that you were
coming to-day. I told him you would be here yesterday, but yesterday
isn't to-day to that Indian. I wasn't sure you would get here at all, in
point of fact, for I didn't know whether that old fool I talked to in
your office would send you or some one else. If anyone else had been
sent, he would have never got by Joe, I can tell you. Come in. Where's
your bag?"

"I haven't one," I replied. "I went to Calvada yesterday to see you, and
didn't know until I got there that you were up here."

The Doctor chuckled.

"I guess I forgot to tell where I was," he said. "That man I talked to
got me so mad that I hung up on him before I told him. It doesn't
matter, though. I can dig you up a new toothbrush, and I guess you can
make out with that. Come in."

* * * * *

I followed him into the house, and he showed me a room fitted with a
crude bunk, a washstand, a bowl and a pitcher.

"You won't have many luxuries here, Tom," he said, "but you won't need
to sta