ssed five or six women at
the doors of their miserable shacks, and they smiled as they saw us.
We passed four men, and their greeting was maddening in its jeer. Even
the damned kids looked up and grinned like the apes they are. They've
bluffed and beaten us, and I--hate 'em all."

For some moments Stanley Fyles made no answer. He was gazing out down
the village trail, and his eyes were on a small group of people
standing some way off talking together. He had recognized them. They
were Kate and Helen Seton, and with them was young Bryant, the
ingenuous brother of Charlie. He guessed, as well he might, the
subject of their talk. His failure. Was not everybody talking of it?
And were not most of them, probably all of them, rejoicing? His
bitterness grew, and at last he turned on his subordinate.

"Bluffed, but not beaten," he said, with a fierce oath which did the
Scot's heart good. "We're not beaten," he reiterated, "if only Jason
will leave us alone, and trust us further. I've got to convince him.
I've got to tell him all that's happened, and I've got to persuade him
to leave us here. We've got to go on. He can recommend my resignation,
he can do what he damn well pleases, so long as he leaves me here to
finish this work. I tell you, I've got to break up this gang of
hoodlums."

McBain's eyes glittered.

"That's how I feel, sir."

"Feel? We've just got to do it--or clear out of the country. Man,
I'd give a thousand dollars to know how they got possession of our
signals. Those shots, that bluffed us, were fired by some of the gang.
How did they learn it? It's been done by spying, but--say, get on back
to camp, and prepare the report of last night. Hold it up for me, and
I'll enclose a private letter to Mr. Jason. I'll be along later."

McBain nodded.

"You fix it, sir, so we don't get transferred back. We need another
chance badly. Maybe they won't bluff us next time."

He swung himself into the saddle and rode away, while Fyles, linking
his arm through the faithful Peter's reins, strolled leisurely on down
the track toward the group which included Kate Seton.

As he drew near they ceased talking, and watched his approach. Their
attitude was such that Fyles could not refrain from a half-bitter,
half-laughing comment as he came up.

"It doesn't take much guessing to locate the subject of your talk,
Miss Kate," he cried.

Kate's dark eyes had no smile in them as she replied to his challenge.

"How's that?" s