of his friends that was posted would
show him the ropes; and if he'd take the trouble to go to the Land
Office itself, the clerk would say: 'No, Mr. Man, I can't transfer to
you, personally, more'n a hundred and sixty acres, but you can get some
of your friends to take it up for you.'[Footnote: A fact.] Now will you
tell me how Mr. Man could get it any straighter than that?"

Bob was seeing a great light. He nodded.

"They've changed the rules of the game!" said California John
impressively, "and now they want to go back thirty year and hold these
fellows to account for what they did under the old rules. It don't look
to me like it's fair."

He thought a moment.

"I suppose," he remarked reflectively, going off on one of his strange
tangents, and lapsing once more into his customary picturesque speech,
"that these old boys that burned those Salem witches was pretty well
thought of in Salem--deacons in the church, and all such; p'ticular
elect, and held up to the kids for high moral examples? had the plumb
universal approval in those torchlight efforts of theirn?"

"So I believe," said Bob.

"Well," drawled California John, stretching his lank frame, "suppose one
of those old bucks had lived to now--of course, he couldn't, but suppose
he did--and was enjoying himself and being a good citizen. And suppose
some day the sheriff touched him on the shoulder and says: 'Old boy,
we're rounding up all the murderers. I've just got Saleratus Bill for
scragging Franklin. You come along, too. Don't you know that burnin'
witches is murder?'" California John spat with vigour. "Oh, hell!" said
he.

"Now, Baker," he went on, after a moment, "is Saleratus Bill because he
knows he's agin what the people knows is the law; and the other fellows
is old Salem because they lived like they were told to. Even old Salem
would know that he couldn't burn no witches nowadays. These old timers
ain't the ones trying to steal land now, you notice. They're too damn
honest. You don't need to tell me that you believe for one minute when
he took up this Wolverine land, that your father did anything that he,
_or anybody else_, courts included, thought was off-colour."

"My father!" cried Bob.

"Why, yes," said California John, looking at him curiously; "you don't
mean to say you didn't know he is the Wolverine Company!"

XXII

"Well," said California John, after a pause, "after you've made your
jump there ain't much use in trying to t