At the dam Weir found Meyers and Atkinson anxiously waiting his return. The sudden concerted melting away of workmen from camp had been warning to his subordinates that the danger of a general spree had taken definite form, which the report of a pair of young engineers confirmed when they followed a group of laborers to the old adobe house and beheld the beginning of the debauch.

“Get out all the staff, Meyers, and you, Atkinson, all the foremen and sober men left, then go down the road and put that joint out of business, taking axes and whatever is necessary.”

“And if they fight?” Meyers asked.

“Try first to placate them. If that fails, some of you draw them off in order to permit the others to enter the house and destroy the whiskey. It’s a tough job, but you may succeed. If the crowd turns ugly as it may, being drunk, come back. No need to take the risk of broken heads or being beaten up. See, however, if you can’t outwit the outfit. Possibly you could push that mud house over from the rear by means of a beam; that would do the business. I leave it to you to decide what’s best to do, men, after you’ve examined the situation.”

“The camp will be unguarded except for you and the two men with you,” Weir’s assistant suggested. “If the crowd drinking down at that place should take the 239 notion to come here and tear things up, there would be nothing to hinder them. A few should stay, anyway, I imagine––half a dozen, who can use guns.”

“Well, pick out six to remain,” the other agreed.

For Meyers’ suggestion had raised a disagreeable possibility. It was never safe to ignore precautions when a gang of two or three hundred rough, active laborers, however loyal when sober, were made irresponsible and crazy by liquor; and one stage of drunkenness in such men was usually manifested in a wild desire for violence. The scheme of Weir’s enemies might comprise using this very act for wrecking the camp.

Six men, to be sure, would offer little resistance to stemming the movement once it was started, but the sight of steel in the guards’ hands might cause even a reckless mob to pause long enough for an appeal. If the men should be brought to listen, they could probably be diverted from their purpose, as impassioned crowds are easily swayed by men of force.

In any case the camp and dam should be defended to the last. That went without saying.

Meyers and Atkinson had little more than departed with their muster of engineers, foremen and sober workmen, some fifty in all, when the two cars driven by Dr. Hosmer and Janet arrived at headquarters. To the occupants of both machines the camp appeared singularly dark and silent, the office building and the commissary shack alone showing lights.

The four visitors entered the main room in the former building, where they found Mr. Pollock and Martinez.

“Mr. Weir stepped out for a moment to make a round of the camp and the horse corrals,” the easterner replied in answer to an inquiry from the doctor. “Will you be seated?” And he politely placed chairs for Janet and 240 Mary, while his look scrutinized the party with discreet interest.

“Oh, Mr. Martinez, you’ve escaped!” Janet exclaimed, after a surprised stare at the lawyer.

The Mexican smiled, bowed and drew one point of his black mustache through his fingers.

“I have indeed, Miss Janet,” said he. “Not without an unpleasant experience, however. I understand you secured the paper concerning which I telephoned you, and though I understand it has since been lost––through no fault of yours––I desire to express my thanks for your excellent assistance in the matter.”

“But it has been found again; we have it with us.”

Martinez gave a start, none the less sincere for being dramatic.

“What! Saurez’ deposition? Weir thought it burned. Why, this is the most wonderful luck in the world! It gives us the whip-hand again.”

Janet nodded.

“Mary Johnson here found it in a crack in the rocks when she and her father went up to the cabin to bring Ed Sorenson down. Father has it. That’s one reason we’re here. But there’s another; Mr. Sorenson has learned of his son’s accident, has seen him, talked with him, been told lies and now is in a dreadful rage, threatening every one concerned. He was at our house and made a scene. He’s coming here, or so he said, to kill Mr. Weir and obtain the document. So we hurried to the dam to give warning.”

At this juncture Mr. Pollock stepped forward.

“Mr. Sorenson hasn’t yet appeared, and I assure you he will be prevented from harming any one if he comes. You are Miss Janet Hosmer, I judge, of whom I’ve heard so much that is praiseworthy. Will you allow 241 me to introduce myself? I’m Mr. Pollock, a company director, and to a degree in Mr. Weir’s confidence.”

Janet expressed her pleasure at his acquaintance and in turn introduced her father and the Johnsons.

“Mr. Weir spoke of you to us, but we weren’t aware he had informed you of the paper.” Then she added, “But he would wish to, naturally.”

Weir’s voice, without, in conversation with some one caused them all to look towards the door. In the panel of light falling on the darkness before the house they perceived the engineer’s tall figure by a horse, from which the rider was dismounting. Letting the reins drag and leaving the horse to stand, the latter walked with Weir into the room.

“Why, this is a delightful surprise!” the engineer exclaimed on beholding the four who had come while he was out. “And unexpected.” His eyes rapidly interrogated the different faces. “I suppose it’s business, not pleasure, that brings you.”

“That’s so,” said Johnson, the rancher, nodding.

“Well, Madden is here on business, too, it seems.” He glanced at Mr. Pollock. “Mr. Madden is our sheriff and he has a warrant for my arrest.” He turned back to the officer. “You come at a bad time for my affairs. You saw that big show at the old house half way down the road? That crowd is made up of my workmen, who are being entertained with free whiskey, and there’s no telling but what they may come here to tear things up. The whiskey is furnished by Vorse, I suspect, and is being served at Vorse’s place. Your warrant is inspired by Vorse and others, isn’t it? The two circumstances coming at the same moment, the free drunk and my arrest, look fishy to me. What do you think? I’m in charge of a property here representing a good deal of 242 money and I should hate to be absent if the men took the idea into their heads to turn the camp upside down, especially if the idea was inspired by Vorse and his friends.”

“I haven’t served the warrant yet,” Madden replied.

“And you know that I’m not going to skip the country at the prospect of your serving it?”

“No. There’s no hurry; I’ll just sit around for a while. And understand, Weir, this arrest is none of my doings, except officially. I take no stock in the yarn about your having attacked the greaser you killed. Martinez’ and Miss Janet’s testimony at the inquest satisfied me in that respect.”

Mr. Pollock now drew Weir aside for a whispered conference. When they rejoined the others the engineer made the lawyer acquainted with the sheriff.

“Mr. Weir has agreed to my suggestion to take you into our confidence, Mr. Madden,” he stated. “There may be other warrants for you to serve soon, and I’m sure you will respect what we reveal. All of us here except you know the facts I’m about to relate; indeed, have shared in them to an extent; and in addition to our word we’ll present proof. You know Dr. Hosmer and his daughter certainly, you probably know Mr. Johnson and the young lady with him, and are aware whether their statements are to be relied on.”

“They are,” Madden answered, without hesitation.

“You’re already convinced of the truth of Weir’s innocence in the charge of murder now being preferred against him. Well, now, a friend at court is worth something; and we propose to make you that friend.”

“I’m not against him like most of the town, anyway,” was the sheriff’s answer.

“Go ahead with your explanation,” Pollock said to the engineer.

Thereupon Weir briefly sketched out events for the officer as they had occurred and as showing the motives which had inspired his enemies in seeking to destroy him:––the original plot against his father, his determination to uncover the four conspirators, the episode at the restaurant in Bowenville, the discovery of Ed Sorenson as the hirer of the dead Mexican assassin, the obtaining of Saurez’ deposition and Martinez’ imprisonment in Vorse’s saloon cellar, Janet’s abduction and rescue and the loss of the paper.

“But the paper isn’t lost,” Dr. Hosmer interrupted. “Mary Johnson found it and here it is.” With which he drew the crumpled document from his breast pocket and laid it on the table.

“You have it again!” Weir exclaimed. “You found it, Mary!” He stepped forward and took the girl’s hand in his for a moment. “You’re a friend indeed to bring this back to me.”

“I owed you more than that,” she said, coloring.

“But Mr. Sorenson has learned about his son and the paper and everything that happened, except Ed Sorenson told him lies instead of the truth,” Janet put in. “He’s terribly angry at all of us. He said he would kill you for crippling Ed.”

“Sorenson is welcome to try,” Weir responded, with a quick blaze in his eyes.

At this point Mr. Pollock interposed.

“You didn’t finish your story, Weir. Relate for Mr. Madden’s benefit what occurred at Judge Gordon’s house.”

This tragic conclusion to the afternoon’s happenings the engineer told, though remarking that the company 244 director should be the true narrator. At his announcement that Judge Gordon had taken his own life by poison his listeners remained dumbfounded.

“He’s dead, then?” Madden asked, at last.

“Yes. And the transfer of property made to Mr. Pollock amounts to an acknowledgment of his guilt. Now, I should like to have Martinez read this deposition, for I’ve never heard its contents myself.”

This the Mexican did, translating the Spanish paragraphs into English with fluent ease, ending by reading the list of witnesses. Martinez gave the paper a slap of his hand.

“And old Saurez was found dead in Vorse’s saloon by me an hour after he had signed this,” he said. “Draw your own conclusions.”

Madden shifted on his seat. He glanced at the document and at the others and then gazed out the door at the darkness.

“Looks like a clear case; I always imagined if these men’s past was dug into there would be a lot of crooked business turned up. But granting that everything is as shown, with Lucerio the county attorney under Sorenson’s thumb and the community as it is there’s a question if Saurez’ statement even will be enough to convict them.”

At that Janet jumped up, her eyes gleaming.

“That is not all the proof, not all by any means!” she cried.

“What more is there?”

“Mr. Johnson’s evidence.”

“Johnson’s!” came in surprised tones from all four of the men uninformed of the rancher’s story.

“Yes, he saw the man Dent killed and the plotters make your father, Mr. Weir, believe he had done the killing.”

Steele stared at Johnson dumbfounded.

“Just that; I saw the whole dirty trick worked, looking through the back door of the saloon.”

“Then you were the boy!” Weir gasped. “The boy who looked in! After thirty years I supposed that boy gone, lost, vanished beyond finding.”

“I stayed right here,” was the reply. “Of course I kept my mouth shut about what I had seen. I worked on ranches and rode range and at last got the little place on Terry Creek and married. Nothing strange in my remaining in the country where I grew up, especially as I only knew the cattle business.”

Weir swung about to Madden.

“Here’s a live witness,” said he. “With the other proof his evidence should be final.”

“Whenever you say, I’ll arrest the men. As for this warrant I have, I’ll just continue to carry it in my pocket,” the sheriff stated. “I must remark that I never heard of a more villainous plot, taking it all around, than you’ve brought to light.”

“And the charges must cover everything,” Pollock said sternly. “From Dent’s murder to the conspiracy against the irrigation company.”

“I’ll stay here in case you need me to stop any trouble with your workmen,” Madden remarked.

But trouble though imminent was coming from another direction, as was suddenly shown when a man, dust-covered and hatless, rushed into the office.

“They’re on the way,” he cried.

“Who? The workmen?” Weir demanded.

“No. I don’t know anything about the workmen, but a bunch of Mexicans, fifty or more, are headed this way to blow up the dam. I saw and heard them.”

“Where?”

“At the spring a mile south. I was watching down there, where Atkinson had sent me after supper, relieving the man who kept lookout during the afternoon. That was where the booze was dealt out last night, you remember. I was sitting there when I heard a crowd coming. At first I thought it was our men, but when they stopped to drink and smoke, I saw by their talk they were Mexicans. But there was one white man with them, a leader. He and a Mexican talked in English. They’re to raid the camp, crawling up the canyon, to dynamite the dam first, then fire the buildings.”

“Then they’re on the road here now?”

“Yes.” The speaker licked his lips. “I cut along the hillside until I got ahead of them, but it was slow going in the dark and stumbling through the sage. They must be close at hand by this time, though I came faster than they did. The white man said to the Mexican that they wanted to reach the dam just at moonrise, and that will be pretty quick now.”

“Go to the bunk-house and call the men waiting there, and get a gun yourself,” Weir ordered. “The storekeeper will give you one.” When the messenger had darted out, he looked at the others. “You must take these girls away from here, doctor, at once.”

“But I don’t go,” Johnson snapped forth, drawing his revolver and giving the cylinder a spin.

“I never could hit anything, and haven’t had a firearm in my hand for years, but I can try,” Pollock stated. “This promises to be interesting, very interesting.”

“Very,” said Weir.

For a little he stood in thought, while the others gazed at him without speaking. His straight body seemed to gather strength and power before their eyes, his clean-cut features to become hard and masterful.

“Up the canyon he said they were coming, didn’t he?” he remarked at last, more to himself than to them. “Very well, so much the better. Johnson, you and Madden take charge of the men when they come and line them along the hillside this side of the dam. Put out all lights.” With which he strode out of the building.

They looked after him in uncertainty.

“I’m not going; you may be hurt, and need me,” Mary stated, with a stubborn note in her voice.

“Then keep out of reach––and run for town if the ruffians get into camp,” was her father’s answer.

“I stay too,” Janet exclaimed, resolutely.