Connie laughed: "I'm Hurley's clerk, and I just dropped down to tell you that if those fellows should happen to ask you how you got wind of where they were hiding, you might tell them that Slue Foot Magee tipped them off."
"If they'd happen to ask!" exclaimed the sheriff. "They've b'en tryin' every which way they know'd how to horn it out of me, ever since they got out here. What about Slue Foot? I never did trust that bird—never got nothin' on him—but always livin' in hopes."
"I happen to know that Slue Foot is an I. W. W., and if these fellows think he doubled-crossed them, they might loosen up with some interesting dope, just to even things up. You see, it was Slue Foot who advised them to go to Willow River."
"O-ho, so that's it!" grinned the sheriff. "Well, mebbe, now they'll find that they kin pump me a little after all."
"And while I'm here I may as well swear out a couple of more warrants, too. You are a friend of Hurley's, and you want to see him make good."
"You bet yer life I do! There's a man! He's played in hard luck all his life, an' if he's got a chanct to make good—I'm for him."
"Then hold off serving these warrants 'til just before the break-up. When the thaw comes, you hurry up to Hurley's camp, and nab Slue Foot." The sheriff nodded, and Connie continued: "First I want him arrested for conspiring with the Syndicate in the theft of thirty-four thousand dollars' worth of logs during April and May of last year."
"With the Syndicate—stealin' logs!"
"Yes, if it hadn't been for that, Hurley would have made good last year."
The sheriff's lips tightened: "If we can only rope in Heinie Metzger! He ruined me on a dirty deal. I had stumpage contracts with him. Then he tried to beat me with his money for sheriff, but he found out that John Grey had more friends in the woods than the Syndicate had. Go on."