“Smith?” cried Cameron, glancing at that individual now busy unhitching the bronchos.
“And of course,” continued Bracken, “green logs ain't any use for a real good house, so—and then—well, I happened to have a bunch of logs up the Big Horn. I guess the boys floated 'em down.”
“Come away, Mrs. Cameron, and inspect your house,” cried a stout, red-faced matron. “I said they ought to await your coming to get your plans, but Mr. Smith said he knew a little about building and that they might as well go on with it. It was getting late in the season, and so they went at it. Come away, we're having a great time over it. Indeed, I think we've enjoyed it more than ever you will.”
“But you haven't told us yet who started it,” cried Mandy.
“Where did you get the lumber?” said Cameron.
“Well, the lumber,” replied Cochrane, “came from the Fort, I guess. Didn't it, Inspector?”
“Yes,” replied the Inspector. “We had no immediate use for it, and Smith told us just how much it would take.”
“Smith?” said Cameron again. “Hello, Smith!” But Smith was already leading the bronchos away to the stable.
“Yes,” continued the Inspector, “and Smith was wondering how a notice could be sent up to the Spruce Creek boys and to Loon Lake, so I sent a man with the word and they brought down the lumber without any trouble. But,” continued the Inspector, “come along, Cameron, let us follow the ladies.”
“But this is growing more and more mysterious,” protested Cameron. “Can no one tell me how the thing originated? The sash and doors now, where did they come from?”