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Updated: June 24, 2025
Around the edges of the natural opening stretched immediately the open jungle of the chaparral or the park-like forests of oaks. "These are the typical mountain people of California," said Welton. "It's only taken us a few hours to come up this far, but we've struck among a different breed of cats.
But I didn't want you to think I was starting up the bloodhounds against you without some blame good reason." "I'd know that anyway, Bobby," said Welton kindly. He stared moodily at the stovepipe. "This is getting too thick for an old-timer," he broke out at last. "I'm just a plain, old-fashioned lumberman, and all I know is to cut lumber. I pass this mess up.
It's meant to be a matter of form!" After breakfast Welton ordered his buckboard and, in company with Bob, drove down the mountain again. Plant was discovered directing the activities of several men, who were loading a light wagon with provisions and living utensils. "Moving up to our summer camp," one of them told Bob. "Getting too hot down here."
"Crediting the account with the value of the chickens as food would bring us out with a loss of approximately ten dollars." "Fried chicken is hardly applicable as lumber camp provender," pointed out Welton. "So it's scarcely a legitimate asset." "I had considered that point," replied Merker, "and in my calculations I had valued the chickens at the price of beef." Welton gave it up.
A litter of "slash," beaten down by the winter, cumbered the ground, and retained beneath its faded boughs soggy and melting drifts. "Had some 'fallers' in here last year," explained Welton briefly. "Thought we'd have some logs on hand when it came time to start up." "Wait a minute," requested Bob.
Welton, coat off, his burly face perspiring and red, always greeted him jovially. "Spend all your salary this month?" he would ask. "Does the business keep you occupied?" And once or twice, seriously, "Bob, haven't you had enough of this confounded nonsense? You're getting too old to find any great fun riding around in this kid fashion pretending to do things.
Bob looked at this companion. Welton laughed. "There's hardly a woman in the country that doesn't help round up stock. How'd you like to chase a cow full speed over this country, hey?" As they progressed, mounting slowly, but steadily, the character of the country changed. The cañons through which flowed the streams became deeper and more precipitous; the divides between them higher.
"Resign!" cried Welton energetically; "then it won't be your duty. Nobody knows about what you know. If you're not called on, you've nothing to say. You don't have to tell all you know." A vision swept before Bob's eyes of a noble forest supposedly safe for all time devoted by his silence to a private greed. "But concealing evidence is as much of a perjury as falsifying it " he began.
"Got to spring it all at once," said he, "otherwise there'll be outsiders in, thinking there's a strike been made also they'll get inquisitive. It's a great chance. And, Orde, my son, there's a few claims up there that will assay about sixty thousand board feet to the acre. What do you think of it for a young and active lumberman? I'm going to talk it over with Welton. It's a grand little scheme.
I am willing to believe that you have acted in 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 must remove the flume within a reasonable time. Or else you may still get a permit." "How long would that take?" asked Welton. "Could it be done by wire?"
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