The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1913-09-16

he remarked grfmly. 1.-THE boss didn't
say you was to be rubbed out-they
never do. But reckon it would save
heap o. trouble if you was rubbed
out You don't git over into them
woods on Upper Lost creek with no
papers to serve on anybody. Seer"
A great light dawned upon Blount,
and with it came the discomforting
chill of conviction overthrown- As a
theorfst he had always scoffed at the
idea that corporations, which are crea-
lures of the law, could afford to be
open lawbreakers. But here was a
very striking REPUTATION of the chari-
table assumption.
His smoking room companion Of the
Pullman car was doubtless one Of the
timber piLlagers who had been cuttin g
on the public domain. To such a man
an agent of the national forest serv-
ice was an enemy to be disposed of as
expeditiously as possible, and Blount
saw that he had only himself to blame,
since he had allowed the man to be-
1ieve that he was a government en-
ployee.
Having the c1ew to the mystery, how
ever, his course was a little easier to
steer.
"My name is Blount and 1 am the
son Of ex-senator David Blount of this
state,'' he asserted. ffNow, what are
you going to do with me?''
whats that you say ?'"sgrated the
outlaw
E'You heard what I said Go ahead
and heave me into the canyon if you
are willing to stand for it afterward.''
The hard faced man turned on his
heel without replying and went back
to +R1A 41,@
caught only word now and again of
the low toned, wrangling argument
that followed. But from the overheard
word or two he gathered that there
were still some leanings toward the
sound old maxim which declares that
t'dead men tell no tales
When the decision was reached he
was left to guess what it was. With
out any explanation the thongs were
taken from his wrists and ankles, and
he was helped upon his horse. When
his captors were also mounted the
new status was defined by the hard
| faced man in curt phrase.
s'You go along quiet with us, and
don't you make no bad breaks. I
more'n half believe you been lynn to
me, but I'm goin' to give you a chance
to prove up. If you don't prove up
you pass out, that's all. Now git in
line and hike out, and if ye're tempt
ed to make break jest ricollect that
a chunk O. lead out of < Winchester
kin travel a heap, faster than your
cayuse.''
For the first few miles the trail was
so difficult that speed was out of the
question, but later in crossing high
lying valley the horses were pushed,
and ten or twelve miles were covered
at a gaIlop-
When the canyon trait came out
upon broad uplands and became
country road, with ranches on either
hand, wateFed by irrigation canals
into which the mountain torrent was
diverted, there were no familiar land
marks to tell BIount whittier his cap
tors were leading him.
AS he was able to determine by
holding his watch face up to the moon
light, it was nearly midnight when the
silent cavalcade OF four turned aside
from the main road into an avenue of
huge cottonwood trees.
At it's head the avenue became a cir
eular driveway, and fronting the drive
way a stately house, with massive
Georgian facade and colonnade por-
tico, flung its black shadow across
the white gravel of the carriage ap-
proach.
There were lights in one wing Of the
house, and another appeared behind
the fanlight in the entrance hall when
the leader of the three highbinders
had tramped up the steps and touched
the bell push.
Blount had a fleeing glimpse OF a
Ill al
~