e patents that antedate his. You can
tell him that the land is not worth anything. I will give you a good sum
if you get him to name a price at, say, fifty per cent. on what he gave
for it. I know what he gave for it. You can tell him it ain't worth
anything to him and that his title is faulty."

"No, I could not," said Keith, shortly.

"Why not?"

"Because I think it is very valuable and his title perfect. And he knows
it."

Wickersham glanced at him in the dusk.

"It isn't valuable at all," he said after a pause. "I will give you a
good fee if you will get through a deal for it at any price we may agree
on. Come!"

"No," said Keith; "not for all the money you own. My advice to you is to
go to Squire Rawson and either offer to take him in with you to the
value of his lands, or else make him a direct offer for what those lands
are really worth. He knows as much about the value of those lands as you
or Mr. Halbrook or any one else knows. Take my word for it."

"Rats!" ejaculated Wickersham, briefly. "I tell you what," he added
presently: "if he don't sell us that land he'll never get a cent out of
it. No one else will ever take it. We have him cornered. We've got the
land above him, and the water, too, and, what is more, his title is not
worth a damn!"

"Well, that is his lookout. I expect you will find him able to take care
of himself."

Wickersham gave a grunt, then he asked Keith suddenly:

"Do you know a man named Plume over there at Gumbolt?"

"Yes," said Keith; "he runs the paper there."

"Yes; that's he. What sort of a man is he?"

Keith gave a brief estimate of Mr. Plume: "You will see him and can
judge for yourself."

"I always do," said Wickersham, briefly. "Know anybody can work him? The
governor and he fell out some time ago, but I want to get hold of him."

Keith thought he knew one who might influence Mr. Plume; but he did not
mention the name or sex.

"Who is that woman inside?" demanded Wickersham. "I mean the young one,
with the eyes."

"They call her Terpsichore. She keeps the dance-hall."

"Friend of yours?"

"Yes." Keith spoke shortly.

The stage presently began to descend Hellstreak Hill, which Keith
mentioned as the scene of the robbery which old Tim Gilsey had told him
of. As it swung down the long descent, with the lights of the lamps
flashing on the big tree-tops, and with the roar of the rushing water
below them coming up as it boiled over the rocks, Wickersham conceiv