"That's my plain identical meanin'," declared Baldy. "Them scoundrels started another fire after we did ours."
"Oh, how terrible!" exclaimed Ruth.
"Wait; hold on, Miss! I'm not goin' so far as to accuse 'em of doin' it purposely," the cowboy went on, earnestly. "They may not have meant it. The grass is pretty dry just now, and a little fire would burn a long way. It's jest possible they may have made a blaze to bile their coffee, and the wind carried sparks into a bunch of grass. But I have my suspicions."
"Why, who could they be, to do such a dastardly thing as that?" demanded Mr. DeVere.
"That's what I want to know," put in Mr. Pertell.
Baldy turned sharply to the manager.
"Who's been followin' on your trail ever since you started out to make your big drama 'East and West'?" he asked.
"Who—who!" repeated Mr. Pertell. "Why—why those sneaks from the International Picture Company—that's who."
"That's them," declared Baldy, laconically, as he pointed to the retreating horsemen. "That's them, and they're the fellows who sot this second fire that so nearly wrecked us."
"Is it possible!" ejaculated Mr. DeVere.