nodding and smiling to the
Indian, who backed away into the shadows.

"I am Chet Ainsworth, timber agent," said the stranger. "This is my
guide, Tobe Skinner. I'm here to talk a little business with you. Tobe
thought he knew the way, but we got a thousand miles out of it. While we
were trying to decide whether this was a lumber camp or a state's prison
colony that Indian ruffian got the drop on us and drove us in. Tobe
would have shot him on the spot if the Indian hadn't beat him to it by
getting the drop on him. I'll see the Indian agent 'bout that when I go
back. I'll--"

"Hippy!" called Tom as he saw Lieutenant Wingate and others of the
Overland outfit strolling towards camp. "Meet Mr. Ainsworth, and his
guide, Mr. Skinner. They are here on a business matter, the nature of
which I do not know. We are ready to hear what you have to say, Mr.
Ainsworth."

Grace rose and said she would have Mrs. Shafto prepare food for the two
men.

"I'm ready to hear the story, Ainsworth," announced Hippy, nodding.

"Are you the party that bought Section Seventy-two, Mr. Wingate?" asked
Ainsworth.

Hippy nodded.

"Without wishin' to be personal, may I ask what you paid for it?"

"You have my permission to ask anything you wish. I reserve the right to
answer or not. The answer is _not_! in this instance," replied Hippy.

"No offense, no offense," answered the agent, assuming a jovial tone. "I
represent certain interests that have been negotiating for this very
property, parties that already have large holdings in this vicinity, and
who wish an uninterrupted stretch of timber and river to the lakes."

"Yes?" questioned Hippy.

"Of course they knew you bought on speculation, because you ain't
lumbermen, and they reckoned they'd buy it from you so as to give you a
fine profit on your investment. That's why I asked you what you paid for
the property."

"Yes?" repeated Hippy.

"No man can say that ain't a fair offer. Now we'll get right down to
business, Mister--Mister--"

"Wingate," assisted Tom.

"We'll get right down to business, Mr. Wingate. You will sell?"

"Sure thing. I'll sell anything I have except my wife and the bull pup."

"Good! I reckoned that was about the size of it," chuckled Ainsworth,
passing a hand across his face to hide his expression of satisfaction.
"What's your figger?"

"Half a million."

"Feet?"

"No. Dollars."

"Are you crazy?"

"Yes."

"Ha, ha! I see. You're one of those funny fel