"Are you Wayland?" he asked, with a contemptuous glance at the Ranger's disguised suit.
"That's my name."
The young fellow handed him a letter stamped from the head department at Washington. It stated that the bearer was a Federal attorney sent out to investigate the Smelter City Coal Claims and any other matters bearing on the contests of the Holy Cross. The letter was couched—Wayland thought—with peculiar frigidity, as though he and not the coal claimants were the guilty party to an undecided contest. Then he glanced back at the bearer: an incredibly young and inexperienced youth—not more than twenty-two or three, barely out of a law school.
"Glad to see you, sir," said Wayland, "Been waiting long?"
The young fellow gave him a side wise look.
"About a week."
"I'm sorry to have delayed you; but one of the most important cases we have ever had called me away. I had intended to go down to Washington and explain the whole situation."
The young man smiled very faintly, and was it, contemptuously? "A good deal needs explaining," he remarked.
"I hope you made yourself at home in the Cabin?"
"On the contrary, I'm with Moyese! I have arranged to have the coal cases examined this week. The claimants declare the coal is not worth a farthing, and this case is seriously disturbing the title to the land where the Smelter stands."