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 hunting since I left college. But we'll find some one to go with you, certainly we'll find some one."

It may have been a banality, but to Carron's conscious ears it rang like a promise. "Thank you," he said. "I shall be delighted." He rose. "It's been mighty good of you to listen to me. I've taken a lot of your time."

"Have you?" said Rader. "I never know what time it is."

Carron looked at his watch. "Just ten after eleven. See here, if I'm going to stay over for a week I'll have to send a wire. Is there any way of getting one out to-morrow?"

Rader thought. "There's the stage, gets down to Beckwith about noon, passes here at six-thirty. If you'll write out your message to-night, I'll have some one meet them with it in the morning."

"Some one that you can depend on?"

"Oh, no doubt!" Rader said.

The pen was already in Carron's hand. He made a clear space among the papers on the table and wrote. The words presented to the casual eye would have been unintelligible, but the inner meaning of the code was clear, and to the point enough:

"Ship stakes, canvas and small stuff to-day for Beckwith. No delay. F. C."