“Well, what’s to be done?” demanded Hawker. “We can shore make this valley too hot for Blaze Nolan, if yuh all say the word.”
“Let’s clean out the Triangle X,” suggested Archie Lee.
“Easier said than done,” grunted Sig Heffner, of the Bar Anchor. “That’s a tough layout, Archie.”
“And they haven’t done anythin’ wrong—yet,” added Joe Brown.
“Neither has Blaze Nolan,” said Hawker. “I think we better wait until somethin’ breaks. We’ve been warned, and it’s up to us to keep an eye peeled. I wouldn’t say a word to Blaze. Damn it, boys, we can’t afford to drive him out of here. We can watch him here, but if he was over around Marshville we don’t know what he’s doin’. And if he knows where the Lost Trail is—he ain’t dumb, is he? He can tell where it is. I’d vote to let him go ahead—over here where we can sort of watch him.”
“That’s horse-sense,” said Joe Brown. “I don’t believe there ever was a Lost Trail. I think it’s all talk. Stands to reason that some of the boys would have found it long ago, if it existed.”
“Blaze Nolan found it,” said Harry Kelton.
“Did he admit it to Marsh?”
“Well, he didn’t deny it.”
They argued the case from every angle before the meeting broke up, but they finally decided to take Hawker’s advice in the matter. It seemed the sensible thing to do. The men rode away in the moonlight, and Uncle Jimmy went painfully up the stairs. He wanted to sit in his easy chair under the stars and have a good-night smoke.