CHAPTER XVI

THE FUR FARMER’S TRIUMPH—­CONCLUSION

While all this talk was going on, the man had of course listened.  What he had just heard Roland say about forgiving his scheming cousin must have encouraged the fellow more or less; for surely if they meant to let the chief conspirator go scot-free, it would hardly be fitting to take it out on the poor hired tool.

“I hope you include me in that general amnesty order, young fellows,” he now hastened to say, with a wishful look on his face.  “Since the fat is in the fire I’m ready to tell anything you want of me.  Course my name isn’t Jake Storms; though it isn’t necessary for me to inform you what it might be, because that doesn’t concern anybody around here.  I needed money pretty badly, and the gent tempted me beyond my limit, so I agreed to help him steal the fox cubs.  I was to have all they’d fetch when sold, and so I came along.  But if you just cut these cords, and tell me to clear out, I’ll vamose the ranch instanter.”

Max nodded his head in the affirmative.

“You might as well make an early start,” he remarked, drily.  “Since things have turned out the way they have, we couldn’t make any use of you.  But before you go, understand one thing, my friend.”

“What might that be, young fellow?” asked the other, though looking very much pleased at hearing he would be set free.

“Don’t get it into your head that it’s going to be an easy snap to come back here and rob this fox farm.  You’d be a fool to try it for many reasons.  In the first place, silver blacks are so few in number that any one selling a cub or a pelt can be tracked, and made to prove ownership.  There’s also an association forming that will insure these costly animals, and chase a thief across the continent until they eventually get him; just as the bankers’ association does.  Understand that?”

“Oh! don’t bother about me,” the man hastened to tell them.  “I’m through with this sort of risky game.  I can make a living at something that brings in easier returns; only set me free and I’ll never come back here again, never, on your life.”

“There’ll be a guard here while we’re gone,” continued Max, sternly, “a man who can hit a silver quarter with his rifle as far as he can see it through the telescopic globe sight.  It wouldn’t be safe for prowlers to show up here.  Besides, they could never find the foxes, hidden deep down in their burrows, during the night time.  Steve, set him free, please.”

The boys felt that they could afford to be magnanimous, since things had taken such a glorious turn in their favor.  So they not only gave the so-called Jake Storms his liberty but filled his pockets with such food as would serve him until he came to a town.  Roland was seen talking with him just before he left, and Max felt sure the boy must have thrust some money into the man’s hand, for the fellow acted as though greatly confused, and shook his head while walking hastily away, as though the kindness of those boys quite overwhelmed, him.