“Don’t be saying things like that!” he fairly screamed.
“Sorry,” Jack apologized. “It was only a joke. I don’t know any more than you do about who wedged that wood into the chimney. But it was done on purpose.”
“I’m not going back in there tonight,” Walz whined with a shudder. “Why, it’s a wonder we weren’t burned in our beds!”
By this time, the sky had grown lighter, an indication that dawn was not far off. The clouds were clearing, and the rain had stopped.
“If Willie and War got through to the Forest Service station, we may sight their plane today,” Mr. Livingston said hopefully.
No one attempted to go back to sleep. Warner and Jack made a brief but futile search for their mysterious enemy.
“I suspect it’s the same fellow who stole our food and my gun,” the rancher said.
“You think it’s somebody who has been living here in the valley?”
“It looks that way, Jack. Who he is, or how he manages to keep alive, I don’t know. We’ll have to be eternally on guard.”
Mr. Livingston and Ken had fished the lake during their absence, and now near the cabin they proudly displayed four good-sized trout.