Thorne grinned appreciation under his close-clipped moustache. This was the first time he had relaxed his look of official concentration, and the effect was most boyish and pleasing. The illumination was but momentary, however.
"There have been sheep camped at a little meadow on that ridge," he stated.
"I know it," replied California John tranquilly.
"You seem to know several things," retorted Thorne crisply, "but your information seems to stop short of the fact that you're supposed to keep sheep out of the Reserve."
"Not when they have permission," said California John.
"Permission!" echoed Thorne. "Sheep are absolutely prohibited by regulation. What do you mean?"
"What I say. They had a permit."
"Who gave it?"
"Supervisor Plant, of course."
"What for?"