V
Bob took supper at Auntie Belle's, and rode up the mountain after dark.He did not attempt short cuts, but allowed his horse to follow the plaingrade of the road. After a time the moon crept over the zenith, and atonce the forest took on a fairylike strangeness, as though at the touchof night new worlds had taken the place of the vanished old. Somewherenear midnight, his body shivering with the mountain cold, his legs stiffand chafed from the long, unaccustomed riding, but his mind filled withthe wonder and beauty of the mountain night, Bob drew rein beside thecorrals. After turning in his horse, he walked through the brightmoonlight to Welton's door, on which he hammered.
"Hey!" called the lumberman from within.
"It's I, Bob."
Welton scratched a match.
"Why in blazes didn't you come up in the morning?" he inquired.
"I've found out another and perhaps important hole we're in."
"Can we do anything to help ourselves out before morning?" demandedWelton. "No? Well, sleep tight! I'll see you at six."
Next morning Welton rolled out, as good-humoured and deliberate as ever.
"My boy," said he. "When you get to be as old as I am, you'll never stirup trouble at night unless you can fix it then. What is it?"
Bob detailed his conversation with Plant.
"Do you mean to tell me that that old, fat _skunk_ had the nerve totell you he was going to send a ranger to look at our permit?" hedemanded.
"Yes. That's what he said."
"The miserable hound! Why I went to see him a year ago about crossingthis strip with our road--we had to haul a lot of stuff in. He told meto go ahead and haul, and that he'd fix it up when the time came. Sincethen I've tackled him two or three times about it, but he's always toldme to go ahead; that it was all right. So we went ahead. It's alwaysbeen a matter of form, this crossing permit business. It's _meant_ to bea matter of form!"
After breakfast Welton ordered his buckboard and, in company with Bob,drove down the mountain again. Plant was discovered directing theactivities of several men, who were loading a light wagon withprovisions and living utensils.
"Moving up to our summer camp," one of them told Bob. "Getting too hotdown here."
Plant received them, his fat face expressionless, and led them into thestuffy little office.
"Look here, Plant," said Welton, without a trace of irritation on hisweatherbeaten, round countenance. "What's all this about seeing a permitto cross those government sections? You know very well I haven't anypermit."
"I have been informed by my men that you have constructed or caused tobe constructed a water flume through section 36, and a road throughsections 14, 22, 28 and 32. If this has been done without dueauthorization you are liable for trespass. Fine of not less than $200 orimprisonment for not less than twelve months--or both." He deliveredthis in a voice absolutely devoid of expression.
"But you told me to go ahead, and that you'd attend to the details, andit would be all right," said Welton.
"You must have misunderstood me," replied Plant blandly. "It is againstmy sworn duty to permit such occupation of public land without dueconformity to law. It is within my discretion whether to report thetrespass for legal action. I am willing to believe that you have actedin this matter without malicious intent. But the trespass must cease."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Welton.
"You must not use that road as a highway, nor the flume, and you mustremove the flume within a reasonable time. Or else you may still get apermit."
"How long would that take?" asked Welton. "Could it be done by wire?"
Plant lifted a glazed and fishy eye to survey him.
"You would be required to submit in writing specifications of the lengthand location of said road and flume. This must be accompanied by atopographical map and details of construction. I shall then send outfield men to investigate, after which, endorsed with my approval, itgoes for final decision to the Secretary of the Interior."
"Good Lord, man!" cried Welton, aghast. "That would take all summer! Andbesides, I made out all that tomfoolery last summer. I supposed you musthave unwound all that red tape long ago!"
Plant for the first time looked his interlocutor square in the eye.
"I find among my records no such application," he said deliberately.
Welton stared at him a moment, then laughed.
"All right, Mr. Plant, I'll see what's to be done," said he, and wentout.
In silence the two walked down the street until out of earshot. Then Bobbroke out.
"I'd like to punch his fat carcass!" he cried. "The old liar!"
Welton laughed.
"It all goes to show that a man's never too old to learn. He's got usplain enough just because this old man was too busy to wake up to thefact that these government grafters are so strong out here. Back ourway when you needed a logging road, you just built it, and paid for theunavoidable damage, and that's all there was to it."
"You take it cool," spluttered Bob.
"No use taking it any other way," replied Welton. "But the situation isserious. We've got our plant in shape, and our supplies in, and our menengaged. It would be bad enough to shut down with all that expense. Butthe main trouble is, we're under contract to deliver our mill run toMarshall & Harding. We can't forfeit that contract and stay inbusiness."
"What are you going to do about it?" asked Bob.
"Get on the wires to your father in Washington," replied Welton. "Lucky,your friend Baker's power project is only four miles away; we can usehis 'phone."
But at the edge of town they met Lejeune.
"I got de ship in pasture," he told Bob. "But hees good for not more danone wik."
"Look here, Leejune," said Welton. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to lookup another range for this summer. Of course, we'll pay any loss ordamage in the matter. It looks impossible to do anything with Plant."
The Frenchman threw up both hands and broke into voluble explanations.From them the listeners gathered more knowledge in regard to the sheepbusiness than they could have learned by observation in a year. Briefly,it was necessary that the sheep have high-country feed, at once; thesheepmen apportioned the mountains among themselves, so that each hadhis understood range; it would now be impossible to find anywhereanother range; only sometimes could one trade localities with another,but that must be arranged earlier in the season before the flocks are inthe hills--in short, affairs were at a critical point, where Lejeunemust have feed, and no other feed was to be had except that for which hehad in all confidence contracted. Welton listened thoughtfully, his eyesbetween his horses.
"Can you run those sheep in, at night, or somehow?"
The Frenchman's eyes sparkled.
"I run ship two year in Yosemite Park," he bragged. "No soldier fin'me."
"That's no great shakes," said Welton drily, "from what I've seen ofPark soldiers. If you can sneak these sheep across without gettingcaught, you do it."
"I snik ship across all right," said Lejeune. "But I can' stop heestrack. The ranger he know I cross all right."
"What's the penalty?" asked Welton.
"Mos'ly 'bout one hundred dollars," replied Lejeune promptly. "Mebbefive hundred."
Welton sighed. "Is that the limit?" he asked. "Not more than fivehundred?"
"No. Dat all."
"Well, it'll take a good half of the rent to get you in, if they soak usthe limit; but you're up against it, and we'll stand back of you. If weagreed to give you that grazing, by God, _you'll get it_, as long asthat land is ours."
He nodded and drove on, while Lejeune, the true sheepman's delight indodging the officers burning strong within his breast, turned his mule'shead to the lower country.