are you kicking about, anyway? It wasn't so long ago that muskrats
were ten cents."

The trooper's good-humoured intimation that Earl Leverett took fur in
other men's traps was not lost on the company. Leverett's fox visage
reddened; Jake Kloon, who had only one eye, glared at the State Trooper
but said nothing.

Clinch's pale gaze met the trooper's smiling one: "The jays and
squirrels talk too," he said slowly. "It don't mean anything. Only the
show-down counts."

"You're quite right, Clinch. The show-down is what we pay to see. But
talk is the tune the orchestra plays before the curtain rises."

Stormont had finished dinner. He heard a low, charming voice from
behind his chair:

"Apple pie, lemon pie, maple cake, berry roll."

He looked up into two gentian-blue eyes.

"Lemon pie, please," he said, blushing.

* * * * *

When dinner was over and the bare little dining room empty except for
Clinch and the two State Troopers, the former folded his heavy, powerful
hands on the table's edge and turned his square face and pale-eyed gaze
on Lannis.

"Spit it out," he said in a passionless voice.

Lannis crossed one knee over the other, lighted a cigarette:

"Is there a young fellow working for you named Hal Smith?"

"No," said Clinch.

"Sure?"

"Sure."

"Clinch," continued Lannis, have you heard about a stick-up on this
wood-road out of Ghost Lake?"

"No."

"Well, a wealthy tourist from New York -- a Mr. Sard, stopping at Ghost
Lake Inn -- was held up and robbed last Saturday toward sundown."

"Never heard of him," said Clinch, calmly.

"The robber took four thousand dollars in bills and some private papers
from him."

"It's no skin off my shins," remarked Clinch.

"He's laid a complaint."

"Yes?"

"Have any strangers been here since Saturday evening?"

"No."

There was a pause.

"We heard you had a new man named Hal Smith working around your place."

"No."

"He came here Saturday night."

"Who says so?"

"A guide from Ghost Lake."

"He's a liar."

"You know," said Lannis, "it won't do you any good if hold-up men can
hide here and make a getaway."

"G'wan and search," said Clinch, calmly.

* * * * *

They searched the "hotel" from garret to cellar. They searched the
barn, boat-shed, out-houses.

While this was going on, Clinch went into the kitchen.

"Eve," he said coolly, "the State Troopers are after that fellow, Hal
Smith, who came here Saturday night. Where