He was not quite ready to submit the matter officially, but he wished very much to talk it over with some one.  Glancing up he caught sight of the glitter of silver and the satin sheen of a horse.  Star was coming down through the trees, resplendent in his silver and carved leather trappings, glossy as a bird, stepping proudly and daintily under the curbing of his heavy Spanish bit.  In the saddle lounged the tall, homely figure of old California John, clad in faded blue overalls, the brim of his disreputable, ancient hat flopped down over his lean brown face, and his kindly blue eyes.  Bob signalled him.

“John!” he called, “come here!  I want to talk with you!”

The stately, beautiful horse turned without any apparent guiding motion from his master, stepped the intervening space and stopped.  California John swung from the saddle.  Star, his head high, his nostril wide, his eye fixed vaguely on some distant vision, stood like an image.

“I want a good talk with you,” repeated Bob.

They sat on the same log whereon Oldham and Bob had conferred.

“John,” said Bob, “Oldham has been here, and I don’t know what to do.”

California John listened without a single word of comment while Bob detailed all the ins and outs of the situation.  When he had finished, the old man slowly drew forth his pipe, filled it, and lit it.

“Son,” said he, “I’m an old man, and I’ve lived in this state since the early gold days.  That means I’ve seen a lot of things.  In all that time the two most valuable idees I’ve dug up are these:  in the first place, it don’t never do to go off half-cock; and in the second place, if you want to know about a thing, go to headquarters for it.”

He removed his pipe and blew a cloud.

“Half of that’s for me and the other half’s for you,” he resumed.  “I ain’t going to give you my notions until I’ve thought them over a little; that’s for me.  As for you, if I was you, I’d just amble over and talk the whole matter over with Mr. Welton and see what he thinks about his end of it.”

XX

This advice seemed so good that Bob acted upon it at his earliest opportunity.  He found Welton riding his old brindle mule in from the bull donkey where he had been inspecting the work.  The lumberman’s red, jolly face lit up with a smile of real affection as he recognized Bob, an expression quickly changed, however, as he caught sight of the young man’s countenance.

“What’s up, Bobby?” he inquired with concern; “anything happened?”

“Nothing yet; but I want to talk with you.”

Welton immediately dismounted, with the laborious clumsiness of the man brought up to other means of locomotion, tied Jane to a tree, and threw himself down at the foot of a tall pine.

“Let’s have it,” said he.

“There have come into my hands some documents,” said Bob, “that embarrass me a great deal.  Here they are.”