"A half-interest," said Chub.
"Well, somehow Hawley got that letter from the Mexican wood-hauler, who was bringing it to you. Jacks, from out in the hills, may have sent Hawley a tip to be on the lookout for the Mexican, for all we know. Anyhow, Hawley got the letter. He knew at once, from reading it, that if Jacks got the claim from your father it would be a good thing for Hawley."
"Great Scott!" muttered Chub, staring at Matt with falling jaw. "The gambler's out for a big graft, all right."
"I'd believe anything of Dirk Hawley," put in Susie.
"If dad left that claim," went on Chub, "this fellow Jacks could slap up his own location notice and then ride for Phœnix with a duplicate. If he got the duplicate on record before dad got his own notice to the recorder's office, the claim would belong to Jacks and Hawley. I'll bet a dime against a chalk-mark that's what Hawley's workin' out! But what did Hawley come over here for, this morning?"
"No trick at all to figure that out, Chub," said Matt. "Hawley asked you if you'd got any word from your father by 'wireless'——"
"That's what he did!"
"Your father said in the letter that he'd try to reach Delray and have him communicate with you. Hawley wanted to find out whether he had, and whether you had sent or taken the location blanks out to the hills. That means a whole lot to Hawley, if he's working to cheat your father out of his 'strike.'"
"And it was Hawley who had some one sneak in here and wreck the wireless machine!" cried Susie excitedly. "If the instruments were smashed he knew Chub couldn't get any word from the hills."
"What d'you think o' that!" growled Chub. "I wonder what Hawley has done already, and how long he's had that letter."