CHAPTER XVI.--HOW A CAT TREED A WOLF.

Smoke still hung over the "burn." Now and then it was swept aside by a gust of wind which seemed now to blow out of the east, and so did not come sizzling with the heat of burned forests. The general effect, however, was that of a heavy, stifling fog, and Green and Frank crept along toward the aeroplane with their hands held out before their faces.

The clatter of the motors had ceased, but the tap-tap of steel on steel was faintly heard as they neared the machine. Occasionally the worker, whoever he was, ceased his tapping, as if listening.

"He's got his nerve with him," Frank whispered, as they moved along.

"How did he get here?" asked Green. "That is the question that is troubling me."

Presently the two came up so that the figure of the man could be discerned, standing before the bulk of the planes. Green sprang forward and seized him by the arm. For an instant it seemed as if the capture would be made without a struggle, then a shot was fired and a crouching figure leaped away.

Frank saw the forester fall and leaped toward the retreating figure. The race in the darkness, caused by the pall of smoke which followed, was short, for Frank was a noted runner and soon overhauled the fugitive. He did not attempt to take hold of the man as he came up. He knew that such a course might mean an unequal contest, for he was only a boy.

Instead, he dropped to the ground and caught one of the runner's ankles in both hands. Naturally the fellow plunged to the ground head-first. He turned quickly and leveled a revolver. There was no warning. The shot came instantly, the bullet passing over the boy's head as he dropped upon the prostrate figure.

With the hand which held the weapon held closely to the ground, Frank struggled with the fellow for an instant, filling the heavy air with his cries for assistance. The first shot had been heard by the sleepers, and help was at hand immediately. The captive was neatly tied by the light of Frank's flashlight, and the foresters gathered about, still rubbing their eyes.

The "burn" was not all in darkness all the time, for the glare of the smouldering embers to the west lighted the place fairly well. Only for the smoke the ruddy light would have made a pretty good illumination. When the fellow was lifted to his feet an exclamation of astonishment came from the group about him.

"Sawyer!" some one cried.

The prisoner dropped his chin for a moment, as if studying out some difficult proposition, then faced the others sheepishly.

"I thought I could get away with it," he said.

A cry now came from the men who had hastened to Green's assistance.

"He's dead, I guess," the voice said.

"I didn't shoot to kill," Sawyer exclaimed. "He can't be dead."

"Why did you shoot at all?" demanded one of the rangers, approaching Sawyer with threatening fists.

"He was in my way," was the sullen reply. "I have always wanted an aeroplane, and I thought this a good time to get one."

"Did you injure the machine in any way?" asked Frank, as Sawyer stood gazing furtively from face to face, his black eyes showing fear.

"When I found I couldn't get it off," was the reply, "I loosened some of the burrs. It can be repaired easily enough."

"That is more than can be said for you, if you have killed Green," one of the men declared, shaking a fist at the prisoner. "If he's dead you'll be hauled up on one of these trees."

"You wouldn't dare do that!" Sawyer cried.

"Wouldn't we?" cried the other. "You'll see when we know whether he will live or not. How is it, boys?" he continued, stepping toward the spot where Green lay.

The man bending over Green was about to reply when Nestor laid a hand on his arm. The boy had been awakened at the first shot and had slipped out of his tent and over to the side of the wounded man, being the first to arrive there.

"Wait," he said, as the ranger looked up in surprise. "Green is not seriously injured," Ned went on, "but I want to make that rascal think he is."

"What's the idea?" asked the other, glancing from face to face about him.

"When he stands under a tree with a rope about his neck," Ned said, "he'll tell us the truth about this affair."

"He was trying to steal the machine," the other said.

"Green has a bullet hole through his shoulder," Ned said, "but I want you to treat the prisoner as if the shot had been fatal. Kindly carry him to his tent."

The command was instantly obeyed, for the foresters all knew why Ned was there, and understood that he was the personal representative of the Secret Service chief at Washington. Ned then called Frank aside and spoke a few words in a whisper. The boy grinned and hastened back to the group about Sawyer.

"Nestor wants to talk with Sawyer," he explained, "and wants me to take him to his tent."

"We'll take him to Nestor's tent after we get done with him," declared a burly forester whose face bore many evidences of the hard fight he had made during the fire. "It won't take us long to settle with him."

Frank spoke a few words to the man and he was one of the first to push the prisoner toward Nestor's tent.

"If you'll keep those men off me," were Sawyer's first words, "I'll tell you what you want to know. They mean to kill me."

"I think there is little doubt about that," was Ned's reply. "Why did you want the aeroplane?"

"If you must know," was the reply, "I was sent here to get it, or to wreck it so you couldn't use it."

This looked promising, and Ned waved a hand at Frank.

"Throw him out here!" came a gruff voice from the crowd.

"I won't tell," Sawyer went on, "unless you promise to keep them away from me. I didn't mean to kill Green, and no court will convict me."

"When did you come here?" asked Ned.

"A month ago," was the reply. "The day you landed in San Francisco a man came to my boarding house and employed me."

"He mentioned the aeroplane?"

"Yes, he knew all about it."

"Treachery in the Secret Service, eh?" asked Ned.

"I don't know how he gained his information," was the reply. "He told me that he had secured a job for me in the forest service, and that I was to join the crew in this district."

"And steal the aeroplane?"

"Steal it or wreck it. There are men with the other crews. You would have found an enemy wherever you landed."

This was all very amazing, and Ned wondered how many pitfalls had been set for him in San Francisco. He had no doubt that Sawyer was telling the truth. The question was as to whether he would tell the story as it was from that point on.

"Who was it that engaged you--gave you your instructions?" he asked.

"I don't know," was the reply.

Ned swung his hand again, and a fierce demand that the prisoner should be thrown out arose from the group outside. Sawyer shivered and crept out of his camp-chair to Nestor's side. His face was deadly pale, being sheltered from the ruddy glow of the fires. Just where the men stood outside lay a red lance of light, giving a demon-like look to their rugged faces.

"If you don't tell me the truth," Ned said, "I can't protect you."

"I tell you I don't know," wailed the frightened man. "I had never seen him before. I wanted a job and took what he offered. I didn't think it would be so great a crime to steal or wreck an aeroplane."

"What were you to receive for the job?"

"One thousand dollars."

"Hurry up! Throw that sneak out!"

Sawyer, like the coward he was, threw himself down on the floor of the tent and groveled at Ned's feet.

"You would know the man again?" asked Ned.

"Yes; I can pick him out of a score of men."

"You will do this willingly?"

"Yes; I'm sick of the whole game. I didn't mean to hurt Green. I wanted to scare him away so I could get back to my tent without being recognized. That is all I wanted, and I did not mean to hit him at all."

There was a great deal more talk between the two. Ned soon became convinced that Sawyer was a weak man, morally and intellectually, who would be apt to follow the lead of one stronger than himself.

After Ned had left a guard over the man and visited Green--who was doing very well, and laughing over the trick the boy had played on Sawyer--he went back to his rough bed, well satisfied with the events of the night.

"By the way," Frank said, crawling into the tent after assisting in caring for the wounded man, "I don't understand what you mean by saying that you've got a clue which you think will force the man behind the scenes out on the stage, in full view of the audience. If there is such a clue hovering about I haven't become acquainted with it."

"The clue is hardly well enough advanced to talk about," Ned replied.

"But if you've got a line on the leader of this bunch you've won the case," suggested Frank.

"That is what the government sent me here for," Ned replied. "The chief of the Secret Service expects me to round up the man responsible for the frequent forest fires. I think now that he should have told me that smuggling was going on up here, but he may have had a good reason for not doing so."

"You know what Mr. Green said," Frank interrupted. "He said the government officers wanted you to take the case and find out everything for yourself. Perhaps they feared that you would pay too much attention to these smugglers, and let the forest fires issue go with scant investigation. They might have arrested the smugglers at any time, you know."

"Perhaps so," Ned replied, "But that wouldn't have brought the manager of the unlawful enterprises into the hands of the law. After all, the Secret Service men may have been right in sending me up here without instructions or special information. What a laugh they would have had if I had failed to discover the Chinamen and the opium."

"Perhaps they wanted to see if you would discover them," laughed Frank. "Have you any idea," he added, "that the Secret Service men knew that you would be followed in here--that the plans of the government regarding your work were known to the outlaws? Do you think they knew of the employment of Sawyer and the others by the men at the head of the conspiracy?"

"No; I hardly think the man who gave me final orders at San Francisco knew that all he did was known to the men he was fighting," Ned replied. "The head of the bunch put a good one over on him there."

"And came near putting one over on you, also," grinned Frank. "The aeroplane has been attacked twice already, and others are doubtless waiting to get a crack at it."

"They will have to hurry up if they do," Ned said, with a chuckle, "and you will have to look out for yourself if they succeed, for I'm going to have you take me to Missoula in the morning and then go back and collect the boys."

"And not come back here again?" asked Frank.

"Not unless we come back for a pleasure trip," was the reply.

"Well," Frank said, "that pleasure trip idea looks pretty good to me. Why not?"

"I may have time," Ned replied.

Frank threw himself on the blankets which had been provided by Mr. Green and closed his eyes, which were still smarting from the effects of the smoke.

"If you go away to-morrow," he said, presently, "what is to become of the clues we found in the cavern by the lake?"

"All provided for," Ned answered.

"And all the Chinks, and everything you discovered while visiting them in the caves almost under the divide?"

"Everything provided for," Ned said, sleepily.

"And you think you can close this case by going to San Francisco?" demanded Frank, a touch of sarcasm in his tone.

"Go to sleep, little boy," said Ned, in a tantalizing tone.

"But do you?" insisted the boy.

"Of course I do," was the muttered reply. "Go to sleep, little man!"

And Frank tried to obey, but sleep would not come. The fire still smouldered over in the west. The ruddy light of the embers was still touching the camp with its red fingers. The smoke was still asserting itself in the air. The puzzle was still there!

After the boy had rolled over at least fifty times, and arose to consult a water bag at least a dozen times, he seated himself under the flap of the tent and looked out. There was a moon now, and the smoke only half hid it. Far off in the woods wild creatures were expressing their opinion of the fire and the wanton destruction of their homes. There was a faint rustle in the foliage of the trees east of the "burn."

"Gee!" the boy muttered. "I'd like to come back here for a month!"

Then his attention was attracted to the savage growl of some animal in the thicket beyond the fire limit of the "burn." It seemed to the boy as if some man-eating creature had cornered a bit of animate supper, but couldn't reach it. The language used by the forest resident seemed to be in the tongue of the panther. While he listened a cry which was not that of a hungry beast came out of the gloom.

That was a cry for help, surely. Frank put his revolver and his searchlight into convenient pockets and set out for the scene of the disturbance, without awakening any of the sleepers. It was slow work pushing through the bushes, and the boy wondered if a fire there, well guarded on a quiet day, wouldn't be a good thing.

He kept his searchlight ahead and looked about for the source of the noises as he advanced in the darkness. In a short time he heard a voice he knew, but hardly expected to hear there.

"Hurry up!" the voice said. "I'm goin' to tumble out of this tree in about a minute! I'm that hungry! I thought you might meet me with a pie under one arm."

"Well, why don't you come down, then?" Frank asked.

"If you'll turn your honorable attention to that tree to the east," Jimmie said, "your excellency will observe a panther waiting for his supper. He's been tracking me all day, getting bolder every minute. Now, if I turn this searchlight away for an instant, he'll jump on me, and there you are. No more Jimmie McGraw than a rabbit!"

"I didn't see your light at first," Frank said, "for it was hidden by the foliage of the trees. I suppose you want me to shoot the cat?"