"It is," agreed Charley dryly. "Perhaps you can explain——" But the lad did not finish his sentence, for from the road came the loud tooting of a horn, and all rushed for the tent opening, Walter exclaiming, "It's the sheriff." The sheriff it proved to be, and with him were a dozen active-looking men, each carrying a rifle.
"I've come for those convicts," the sheriff announced. "Can one of you show me where they are camped?"
"I can," Walter volunteered. "We will have to go on foot, but I guess we will catch them all right. They were up about all night, so they ought to sleep late this morning." He glanced around at Mr. Jones, to see how that person was taking the sheriff's arrival, but the little man was placidly picking his teeth with a bone toothpick and smiling pleasantly at the newcomer.
"All right, lead us to them," said the sheriff. "We want to get them back in the stockade before night, if we can."
Charley watched them out of sight, and then turned to the little man. "I wish you would tell me, Mr. Jones, what your game is," he said earnestly, "and why you are trying to stop this road-building."
The little man looked at him with surprise on his face. "I really don't understand you," he protested mildly. "I must say this is a most extraordinary camp. Everyone seems so suspicious and rude. I have never encountered such treatment before."
"All right, Mr. Jones," said Charley, wearily. "Let's forget it. I must, however, request you to keep away from this camp hereafter."
"It is not likely I will come around here again, after the treatment I have received," said the little man stiffly, as he mounted his pony. "Good-day, sir," and he rode off, leaving the lad with the unpleasant feeling that he had perhaps wounded the feelings of an entirely innocent person. Slowly the lad turned away, and, going to his tent, flung himself face downward on his cot. In truth his nerves were strained almost to the breaking point by the tension and worry he had borne since the fateful day they had bought the machine. He felt himself responsible for the fortunes and even the lives of his friends and the men working for him, and the burden was a heavy one. But nature soon asserted itself, and the worried lad fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, from which he did not awaken until Chris aroused him for dinner. He found Walter at the table waiting for him. The sheriff's auto was gone.
"Yes, we got the convicts, all right," Walter said, in answer to his questions. "They were sound asleep, just as I expected, and the sheriff's men had the handcuffs on them before they knew what was going on. The sheriff permitted me to question them, but I could not get a word out of them. They just shut up like clams. There is no doubt, though, that it was two of them that assaulted McCarty. Their faces and hands were badly scalded. While they were laying for a chance to get at him, Jones and the other two started that fire, I guess. Well, they gave us some hard work and worry, but all's well that ends well."
"We haven't come to the end yet," Charley said, gloomily. "We have only gained a few days of peace, I'm afraid."