The Dolores star., 1921-06-17

and strobe on down the trail.
He didn't move quite like man
with innocent purposes. There was
something stealthy, something sinister
in his stride, and the way he Kept
such a sharp lookout in all directions.
Yet he never glanced to the trail for
deer tracks, as he would have done
had he been hunting. Without even
waiting to mediate on the matter.
Dan started to shadow him.
Before one hundred yards had been
trnversed. he could better understand
the Joy the cougar takes In his hunt
ing. 1t was the same process-a eau
tious. silent advance in the trail OF
prey. He had to walk with the same
caution. he had to take advantage OF
the thickets. He began to feel curl
GUS excitement.
Cranston seemed to be moving more
carefully now. examining the brush
along the trail. Now and then he
glanced up at the tree tops. And all
at once he stopped and knelt in the
dry shrubbery.
At first all that Dan could see was
the glitter Of q knife blade Grams
ton seemed to be whiting piece Of
dead pine into fine shavings. Now
he was gathering pine needles and
small twigs, making a little pile OF
them. And then, just as Cranston
drew his match. Dan saw his purpose.
Cranston was at his old trade-set-
ting forest fire.
For two very good reasons, Dan
didn't call to him at once. The two
reasons were that Cranston had a rifle
and that Dan was unarmed. 1t might
be extremely likely that Cranston
would choose the most plausible and
effective means Of preventing an inter-
ruption of his crime, and by the same
token prevent word of the crime ever
reaching the authorities. The rifle
contained five cartridges. and only one
was needed.
But the idea Of backing out, unseen.
never even occurred to Dan. The fire
would have a tremendous headway be-
fore he could summon help. Although
It was near the lookout station, every
condition pointed to disastrous fire.
The brush was dry as tinder. not so
heavy us to choke the wind, but yet
tall enough to carry the flame into
the tree tops. The stiff breeze up the
ridge would certainly carry the flame
for miles through the parched Divide
time stock and lives and homes would
be endangered, besides the irreparable
loss of timber. There We're many
things that Dan might do, but giving
up was not one of them.
After all, he did the wlsest thing Of
all. He simply came out in plain sight
and unconcernedly walked down the
trail toward Cranston. At the same
| instant, the latter struck his match.
AS Dan was no longer stalking,
Cranston Immediately heard his step.
He whirled recognized Dan, and for
one long instant in which the world
seemed to have time in plenty to make
complete revolution, he stood per-
fectly motionless. The match flared in
his dark fingers. his eyes-full Of SIN
| gular conjecturing-rested on Dams
face. No instant of the latter's life
had ever been fraught with greater
| peril. He understood perfectly what
was going on in CranstOn's mind. The
fire-fiend was calmly deciding whether
to shoot or whether to bluff 1t out.
One required no more moral courage
than the other. 1t really didn't make
a great deal of difference to Cranston.
But he decided that the killing was
not worth the cartridge. The other
course was too easy. He did not even
dream that Dan had been shadowlng
him and had seen his intention He
would have laughed at the idea that
"tenderfoot" could thus walk behind
him, unheard. Without concern, he
scattered with his foot the little heap
of kindllng, and slipping his pipe into
his mouth, he touched the flaring
match to 1t. 1t was a wholly admir-
able little piece of acting, and would
have deceived any one who had not
seen his previous preparations. Then
he walked on down the trail toward
| Dan.
Dan stopped and lighted his own
pipe. 1t was curious little truce.
And then he leaned back against the
great gray trunk of n fallen tree
| 'Well, Cranston," he said civiliy.
The men had met on previous oc-
casions, and always there had been
the same invisible war between them.
''How do you do, Failing" Cranston
replied. No perceptions could be 80
blunt as to miss the premedItated in
suit In the tone. He didn't speak in
| his own tongue at all, the short gut
tural "Howdy" that is the greeting
of the mountain men. He pronounced
all the words with an exaggerated pre-
cision, an unmistakable mockery of
Dams own tone. In his accent ne
threw tone of sickly sweetness, and
his Inference was all too plain. He
was simply calling Failing mIlksop
and white-liver; just as plainly as
If he had used the words.
The eyes Of the two men met.
Cranston's. lips were slightly curled in
l ,tafu u t1