ned suddenly and Mr. Dart came into the room.

"Say, Red," he began with an important air, "I want to see you a
minute, private. Hazel will excuse us, won't you?" with a rare smile
and an abbreviated bow after Mr. Dart's best manner.

"Hazel?" frowned Shandon.

"Sure," grinned Dart. "We got chummy as twins riding over, didn't we?
Come on, Red. This here is urgent."

"It will have to wait, Dart. Miss--"

"Hazleton," prompted Helga.

"Sure," put in Dart. "Her uncle used to know my aunt in Poughkeepsie.
Come on, Red."

"Dart," cried Shandon, "you get out! We are busy."

Dart went slowly back to the door, to the surprise of Shandon who knew
so well the little man's tenacity.

"Oh, well," he said mournfully from across the room. "Only Wanda
said--"

"You will excuse me a moment?" Wayne asked hurriedly. Dart, already
outside was grinning broadly.

"What is it?" queried Shandon.

"Whatever it is it'll keep until we get where we can talk," was the
dogged answer. "There's nobody in the bunk house. Come on."

He hastened down the steps, Wayne following him. Only when they were
in the bunk house, the door closed, the lamp lighted, did Dart speak.

"First thing," he said abruptly, "Hazel's name begins with an H, but
she spells it Helga!"

"You little weasel! Well, what about it? And what about Miss Leland?"

"Wanda's part will keep. Gee, Red, she's some swell dame, that
Egyptian skirt, take it from me! She's got Macbeth's frau of the fairy
tale faded to a finish, ain't she?"

"Look here, Dart . . ."

"It's cold weather," interrupted Dart. "Keep your undershirt on, Red.
When your brother Archie mortgaged the Bar L-M . . ."

"What fool's nonsense are you talking, Dart?" demanded Shandon.
"Arthur never mortgaged--"

"Uhuh. I thought you didn't know about it. Now I'm here to tell you
something you ought to know. I guess the Weak Sister forgot to tell
you about it. Archie mortgaged the Bar L-M, he socked a plaster worth
twenty-five thousand dollars on it, _the day before somebody put him
out_. Get that?"

Wayne stared at him wonderingly. Suddenly he shot out his two hands
and gripped Dart's shoulders, jerking the little man toward him
threateningly.

"What's your game, you little crook? You lie to me and I'll come so
close to killing you we'll both be sorry."

"Listen to that now," sighed Dart. "When one pal tries to wise another
up--"

"Talk fast," said Shandon sternly. "What ar