Baker turned full toward him.

“Think so?  You’ll never get any cigars in the guessing contest unless you can scare up better ones than that.  Let’s get back to cases.  How did you happen to make this break, anyway?”

“Why,” explained Welton, “it was simply a case of build a road and a flume down a worthless mountain-side.  Back with us a man builds his road where he needs it, and pays for the unavoidable damage.  My head was full of all sorts of details.  I went and asked Plant about it, and he said all right, go ahead.  I supposed that settled it, and that he must certainly have authority on his own job.”

Baker nodded several times.

“Sure.  I see the point.  Just the same, he has you.”

“For the time being,” amended Welton.  “Bob’s father, here, is congressman from our district in Michigan, and he’ll fix the matter.”

Baker turned his face to the ceiling, blew a cloud of smoke toward it, and whistled.  Then he looked down at Welton.

“I suppose you know the real difficulty?” he asked.

“One thousand dollars,” replied Welton promptly—­“to hire extra fire-fighters to protect my timber,” he added ironically.

“Well?”

“Well!” the lumberman slapped his knee.  “I won’t be held up in any such barefaced fashion!”

“And your congressman will pull you out.  Now let me drop a few pearls of wisdom in the form of conundrums.  Why does a fat man who can’t ride a horse hold a job as Forest Supervisor in a mountain country?”

“He’s got a pull somewhere,” replied Welton.

“Bright boy!  Go to the head.  Why does a fat man who is hated by every mountain man, who grafts barefacedly, whose men are either loafers or discouraged, hold his job?”

“Same answer.”

Baker leaned forward, and his mocking face became grave.

“That pull comes from the fact that old Gay is his first cousin, and that he seems to have some special drag with him.”

“The Republican chairman!” cried Welton.

Baker leaned back.

“About how much chance do you think Mr. Orde has of getting a hearing?  Especially as all they have to do is to stand pat on the record.  You’d better buy your extra fire-fighters.”

“That would be plain bribery,” put in Bob from the bed.

“Fie, fie!  Naughty!” chided Baker.  “Bribery! to protect one’s timber against the ravages of the devouring element!  Now look here,” he resumed his sober tone and more considered speech; “what else can you do?”

“Fight it,” said Bob.

“Fight what?  Prefer charges against Plant?  That’s been done a dozen times.  Such things never get beyond the clerks.  There’s a man in Washington now who has direct evidence of some of the worst frauds and biggest land steals ever perpetrated in the West.  He’s been there now four months, and he hasn’t even succeeded in getting a hearing yet.  I tried bucking Plant, and it cost me first and last, in time, delay and money, nearly fifty thousand dollars.  I’m offering you that expensive experience free, gratis, for nothing.”