s
whipping the light breeze of the afternoon to a gale, and was already
running wildly over the flanks of the foothills.

"Well, I'm off," said Zen. "Good-bye!"

"Be careful, Zen!" her father shouted. "Fire is fire." But already her
horse was stretching low and straight in a hard gallop down the valley.

"I'll ride in to camp and tell Tompkins to make up a double supply of
sandwiches and coffee," said Transley. "I guess there'll be no cooking
in Landson's outfit this afternoon. After that we can both run down and
lend a hand, if that suits you."

As they rode to camp together Y.D. drew up close to the contractor.
"Transley," he said, "how do you reckon that fire started?"

"I don't know," said Transley, "any more than you do."

"I didn't ask you what you KNEW. I asked you what you reckoned."

Transley rode for some minutes in silence. Then at last he spoke:

"A man isn't supposed to reckon in things of this kind. He should know,
or keep his mouth shut. But I allow myself just one guess. Drazk."

"Why Drazk?" Y.D. demanded. "He has nothin' to gain, and this prank may
put him in the cooler."

"Drazk would do anything to be spectacular," Transley explained. "He
probably will boast openly about it. You know, he's trying to make an
impression on Zen."

"Nonsense!"

"Of course it's nonsense, but Drazk doesn't see it that way."

"I'd string him to the nearest cottonwood if I thought he--"

"Now don't do him an injustice, Y.D. Drazk doesn't realize that he is
no mate for Zen. He doesn't know of any reason why Zen shouldn't look on
him with favor; indeed, with pride. It's ridiculous, I know, but Drazk
is built that way."

"Then I'll change his style of architecture the first time I run into
him," said Y.D. savagely. "Zen is too young to think of such a thing,
anyway."

"She will always be too young to think of such a thing, so far as Drazk
or his type is concerned," Transley returned. "But suppose--Y.D., to be
quite frank, suppose _I_ suggested--"

"Transley, you work quick," said Y.D. "I admit I like a quick worker.
But just now we have a fire on our hands."

By this time they had reached the camp. Transley gave his instructions
in a few words, and then turned to ride down to Landson's. They had gone
only a few hundred yards when Y.D. pulled his horse to a stop.

"Transley!" he exclaimed, and his voice was shaking. "What do you
smell?"

The contractor drew up and sniffed the air. When he turned to Y.D.