Do you know there isn't a man in the Land
Office who hasn't urged and urged and urged the Government to sue for
restitution of that steal, and headquarters pretend to be doubtful so
that the Statute of Limitations will intervene?"

On the inner side, the Ridge dropped to an Alpine meadow that billowed
up another slope through mossed forests to the snow line of the Holy
Cross Mountains. What the girl saw was a sylvan world of spruce, then
the dark green pointed larches where the jubilant rivers rioted down
from the snow. What the man saw was--a Challenge.

"See those settlers' cabins at an angle of forty-five? Need a sheet
anchor to keep 'em from sliding down the mountain! Fine farm land,
isn't it? Makes good timber chutes for the land looters! We've to
pass and approve _all_ homesteads in the National Forests. You may not
know it; but those _are_ homesteads. You ask Senator Moyese when he
weeps crocodile tears 'bout the poor, poor homesteader run off by the
Forest Rangers! If the homesteader got the profits, there'd be some
excuse; but he doesn't. He gets a hired man's wages while he sits on
the homestead; and when he perjures himself as to date of filing, he
may get a five or ten extra, while your $40,000 claim goes to Mr.
Fat-Man at a couple of hundreds from Uncle Sam's timber limits; and the
_Smelter City Herald_ thunders about the citizen's right to homestead
free land, about the Federal Government putting up a fence to keep the
settler off. That fellow--that fellow in the first shack can't speak a
word of English. Smelter brought a train load of 'em in here; and
they've all homesteaded the big timbers, a thousand of 'em, foreigners,
given homesteads in the name of the free American citizen. Have you
seen anything about it in the newspaper? Well--I guess not. It isn't
a _news_ feature. We're all full up about the great migration to
Canada. We like to be given a gold brick and the glad hand. Of
course, they'll farm that land. One man couldn't clear that big timber
for a homestead in a hundred years. Of course, they are not
homesteading free timber for the big Smelter. Of course not! They
didn't loot the redwoods of California that way--two hundred thousand
acres of 'em--seventy-five millions of a steal. Hm!'" muttered
Wayland. "Calls himself Moyese--Moses! Senator Smelter! Senator
Thief! Senator Beef Steer--"

She laughed. "I like your rage! Look! What's that mountain behind
the cabi