Bob shook his head.

“Then go ahead; bring your case,” said Welton.  “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” said Bob.  “It looks like a strong case to me.”

“Don’t bring it.  You don’t need to report in your evidence as you call it.  Just forget it.”

“Even if I were inclined to do so,” said Bob, “I wouldn’t be allowed.  Baker would force the matter to publicity.”

“Baker,” repeated Welton; “what has he got to do with it?”

“It’s in regard to the lands in the Basin.  He took them up under the mineral act, and plainly against all law and decency.  It’s the plainest case of fraud I know about, and is a direct steal right from under our noses.”

“I think myself he’s skinning things a trifle fine,” admitted Welton; “but I can’t see but what he’s complied with the law all right.  He don’t have any right to that timber, I’ll agree with you there; but it looks to me like the law had a hole in it.”

“If he took that land up for other purposes than an honest intention to mine on it, the title might be set aside,” said Bob.

“You’d have a picnic proving anything of the sort one way or another about what a man intends to do,” Welton pointed out.

“Do you remember one evening when Baker was up at camp and was kicking on paying water tolls?  It was about the time Thorne first came in as Supervisor, and just before I entered the Service.”

“Seems to me I recall something of the sort.”

“Well, you think it over.  Baker told us then that he had a way of beating the tolls, and mentioned this very scheme of taking advantage of the mineral laws.  At the time he had a notion of letting us in on the timber.”

“Sure!  I remember!” cried Welton.

“Well, if you and I were to testify as to that conversation, we’d establish his intent plainly enough.”

“Sure as you’re a foot high!” said Welton slowly.

“Baker knows this; and he’s threatened, if I testify against him, to bring the Wolverine Company into the fight. Now what should I do about it?”

Welton turned on him a troubled eye.

“Bob,” said he, “there’s more to this than you think.  I didn’t have anything to do with this land until just before we came out here.  One of the company got control of it thirty year ago.  All that flapdoodle,” he struck the papers, “didn’t mean nothing to me when I thought it came from your amatoore detectives.  But if Baker has this case looked up there’s something to it.  Go slow, son.”

He studied a moment.

“Have you told your officers of your own evidence against Baker?”

“Not yet.”

“Or about these?” he held up the papers.

“No.”

“Well, that’s all right.  Don’t.”

“It’s my duty——­”

“Resign!” cried Welton energetically; “then it won’t be your duty.  Nobody knows about what you know.  If you’re not called on, you’ve nothing to say.  You don’t have to tell all you know.”