"Erbe of White Oaks."
Thorne stared at him puzzled.
"Erbe? Are you sure of that? Why, the man is a big man; he's generally a cut or so above cases of this sort—with as little foundation for them. He's more in the line of fat fees. Here's two mountain cases he's undertaken."
"I never knew Johnny Erbe to refuse any sort of case he'd get paid for," observed California John.
"Well, he's certainly raising a dust up north," said Thorne. "Every paper all at once is full of the most incendiary stuff. I hate to send a ranger up there these days."
"I reckon the boys can take care of themselves!" put in Ross Fletcher.
California John turned to look at him.
"Sure thing, Ross," he drawled, "and a first-class row between a brutal ranger—who could take care of himself—and an inoffensive citizen would read fine in print."
"That's the idea," approved Thorne. "We can't afford a row right now. It would bring matters to a head."
"There's the Harris case, and the others," suggested Amy; "what are you going to do about them, now?"