"If we were down South I'd say 'moonshiners,'" said Elliott, "but the beautiful objection to that is, that we aren't!"
"It's some mystery to do with the Basin," said Bob, "and the whole countryside is 'on'—except our boys. I don't believe California John knew a thing about it."
"Didn't act so. Question: what possibly could everybody in the mountains be interested in that the Forest Service would object to?"
"Lots of things," replied Bob promptly, "but I don't believe the mountains are unfriendly to us—as a unit. I know Martin isn't, and he was the first one I noticed as particularly worried."
Elliott reflected.
"If he's so friendly, perhaps he was a little uneasy about us," he suggested at length. "If somebody doesn't want the Forest Service in this neck of the woods—if that somebody is relying on the fact that we never come down in here farther than the lookout, why then it may not be very healthy here."
"Hadn't thought of that," said Bob. "That looks cheerful. But what's the point? Nine-tenths of this timber is private property anyway. There's certainly no trespass—sheep, timber or otherwise—on the government land. What in blazes is the point?"
"Give it up; but we'd better wear our guns."
Bob laughed.
"I'd have a healthy show against a man who really wanted to get me with a gun. Presumably he'd be an expert, or he wouldn't be sent."