After breakfast Welton ordered his buckboard and, in company with Bob, drove down the mountain again.  Plant was discovered directing the activities of several men, who were loading a light wagon with provisions and living utensils.

“Moving up to our summer camp,” one of them told Bob.  “Getting too hot down here.”

Plant received them, his fat face expressionless, and led them into the stuffy little office.

“Look here, Plant,” said Welton, without a trace of irritation on his weatherbeaten, round countenance.  “What’s all this about seeing a permit to cross those government sections?  You know very well I haven’t any permit.”

“I have been informed by my men that you have constructed or caused to be constructed a water flume through section 36, and a road through sections 14, 22, 28 and 32.  If this has been done without due authorization you are liable for trespass.  Fine of not less than $200 or imprisonment for not less than twelve months—­or both.”  He delivered this in a voice absolutely devoid of expression.

“But you told me to go ahead, and that you’d attend to the details, and it would be all right,” said Welton.

“You must have misunderstood me,” replied Plant blandly.  “It is against my sworn duty to permit such occupation of public land without due conformity to law.  It is within my discretion whether to report the trespass for legal action.  I am willing to believe that you have acted in this matter without malicious intent.  But the trespass must cease.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Welton.

“You must not use that road as a highway, nor the flume, and you must remove the flume within a reasonable time.  Or else you may still get a permit.”

“How long would that take?” asked Welton.  “Could it be done by wire?”

Plant lifted a glazed and fishy eye to survey him.

“You would be required to submit in writing specifications of the length and location of said road and flume.  This must be accompanied by a topographical map and details of construction.  I shall then send out field men to investigate, after which, endorsed with my approval, it goes for final decision to the Secretary of the Interior.”

“Good Lord, man!” cried Welton, aghast.  “That would take all summer!  And besides, I made out all that tomfoolery last summer.  I supposed you must have unwound all that red tape long ago!”

Plant for the first time looked his interlocutor square in the eye.

“I find among my records no such application,” he said deliberately.

Welton stared at him a moment, then laughed.

“All right, Mr. Plant, I’ll see what’s to be done,” said he, and went out.

In silence the two walked down the street until out of earshot.  Then Bob broke out.

“I’d like to punch his fat carcass!” he cried.  “The old liar!”

Welton laughed.

“It all goes to show that a man’s never too old to learn.  He’s got us plain enough just because this old man was too busy to wake up to the fact that these government grafters are so strong out here.  Back our way when you needed a logging road, you just built it, and paid for the unavoidable damage, and that’s all there was to it.”