“You would know the man again?” asked Ned.
“Yes; I can pick him out of a score of men.”
“You will do this willingly?”
“Yes; I’m sick of the whole game. I didn’t mean to hurt Green. I wanted to scare him away so I could get back to my tent without being recognized. That is all I wanted, and I did not mean to hit him at all.”
There was a great deal more talk between the two. Ned soon became convinced that Sawyer was a weak man, morally and intellectually, who would be apt to follow the lead of one stronger than himself.
After Ned had left a guard over the man and visited Green—who was doing very well, and laughing over the trick the boy had played on Sawyer—he went back to his rough bed, well satisfied with the events of the night.
“By the way,” Frank said, crawling into the tent after assisting in caring for the wounded man, “I don’t understand what you mean by saying that you’ve got a clue which you think will force the man behind the scenes out on the stage, in full view of the audience. If there is such a clue hovering about I haven’t become acquainted with it.”
“The clue is hardly well enough advanced to talk about,” Ned replied.
“But if you’ve got a line on the leader of this bunch you’ve won the case,” suggested Frank.
“That is what the government sent me here for,” Ned replied. “The chief of the Secret Service expects me to round up the man responsible for the frequent forest fires. I think now that he should have told me that smuggling was going on up here, but he may have had a good reason for not doing so.”