MacLean studied the Montanan deliberately. He began to recognize unusual qualities in this youth.
"Can't say I care for your friend Barney. He's a bad egg, or I miss my guess."
"Not much taken with him myself. Thought if I'd get him to travel south with me it might save you some trouble."
"It might," the Inspector agreed. "It's his first offense so far as I know." Under bristling eyebrows he shot a swift look at this self-assured youngster. He had noticed that men matured at an early age on the frontier. The school of emergency developed them fast. But Morse struck him as more competent even than the other boyish plainsmen he had met. "Will you be responsible for him?"
The Montanan came to scratch reluctantly. He had no desire to be bear leader for such a doubtful specimen as Barney.
"Yes," he said, after a pause.
"Keep him in the States, will you?"
"Yes."
"Take him along, then. Wish you luck of him."
As soon as he reached Fort Benton, Tom reported to his uncle. He told the story of the whiskey cargo and its fate, together with his own adventures subsequent to that time.