he envelope that night? If you are the heir who
has been trying to get it, you certainly got a chance then."

Big Bob started violently, walked rapidly for a few moments, and then
dropped back to Fremont's side, just as the boy had figured on his
doing. This talk of the Tolford estate seemed to be attractive to the
fellow. Fremont saw that it was, but could find no reason why it
should be unless, indeed, he had hit on the truth in one of his
questions, and the fellow was really an heir.

"What do you know about that will?" Big Bob asked as he took step with
his prisoner.

"Not a thing, except that it has been in good demand for a long time,
and that it has made trouble for Mr. Cameron."

"You have had charge of the Tolford papers, including the will, on
several occasions? You have taken the papers to and from the bank?"

"Sure," answered Fremont. "Where did you learn so much?"

"Never mind! You would know the will if you saw it anywhere?"

"No; I never looked at it."

It seemed to the boy that this answer brought forth a sigh of relief
from the breast of the big fellow, so he decided to keep on with his
questions about the will.

"You have seen the will?" he asked.

"Never. What caused you to think I had seen it?"

"You talk so much about it."

Big Bob grunted and walked on in silence. Fremont turned back for an
instant and swept his eyes over the slope, hoping to catch sight of one
of the Black Bears. Not a friendly face or form was in sight, however,
and he trudged on, wondering what line of questions would be most
likely to throw the big fellow off his guard.

"Why don't you take my advice and confess?" Big Bob asked, presently.

"I might do so," Fremont replied, provokingly, "but for one thing."

"And what is that?" was asked eagerly.

"I want to see the guilty man punished!"

"If you confess," the other went on, angrily, "you'll get a light
sentence if Cameron lives, and a life sentence instead of the electric
chair if he dies. There is always hope in a life sentence--and you are
young!"

"Why do you ask me to confess?" demanded Fremont.

"Well, to tell you the truth," was the reply, "I have a friend who may
be accused of the crime. He can't be convicted, of course, for the
proof goes to show you to be the guilty one, but the cops can make him
a lot of trouble and expense!"

"So you want me to confess and skip the country?"

"Yes, to skip out of the country, just as you skipped