“It’s the finest sort of a night,” said Bob.  “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.  It’s H-O-T, hot, down at the Flats.  This ride just saved my life.”

This might have been truer than Bob had thought, for at almost that very moment Saleratus Bill, having successfully shaken off his pursuers, was making casual and guarded inquiries at Austin’s saloon.  When he heard that Orde had arrived at the Flats on the evening’s stage, he manifested some satisfaction.  The next morning, however, that satisfaction vanished, for only then he learned that the young man must be already safe at headquarters.

[Footnote A:  See “The Riverman.”]

XXVI

In delivering his instructions to Oldham, Baker had, of course, no thought of extreme measures.  Indeed, had the direct question been put to him, he would most strongly and emphatically have forbidden them.  Nevertheless, he was glad to leave his intentions vague, feeling that in thus wilfully shutting his eyes he might avoid personal responsibility for what might happen.  He had every confidence that Oldham—­a man of more than average cultivation—­while he might contemplate lawlessness, was of too high an order to consider physical violence.  Baker was inclined to believe that on mature reflection Bob would yield to the accumulation of influence against him.  If not, Oldham intimated with no uncertain confidence, that he possessed information of a sort to coerce the Forest officer into silence.  If that in turn proved unavailing—­a contingency, it must be remembered that Baker hardly thought worth entertainment—­why, then, in some one of a thousand perfectly legal ways Oldham could entangle the chief witness into an enforced absence from the trial.  This sort of manoeuvre was, later, actually carried out in the person of Mr. Fremont Older, a witness in the graft prosecutions of San Francisco.  In short, Baker’s intentions, while desperately illegal, contemplated no personal harm to their victim.  He gave as general orders to his subordinate:  “Keep Orde’s testimony out of court”; and shrugged off minute responsibilities.

This command, filtered through a second and inimical personality, gained in strength.  Oldham was not of a temperament to contemplate murder.  His nerves were too refined; his training too conventional; his imagination too developed.  He, too, resolutely kept his intentions a trifle vague.  If Orde persisted, then he must be kidnapped for a time.

But Saleratus Bill, professional gun-man, well paid, took his instructions quite brutally.  In literal and bald statement he closed the circle and returned to Baker’s very words:  “Keep Orde’s testimony out of court.”  Only in this case Saleratus Bill read into the simple command a more sinister meaning.

The morning after his return from the lower country, Bob saddled up to ride over to the mill.  He wished to tell Welton of his meeting Taylor; and to consult him on the best course to pursue in regard to the bribery charges.  With daylight many of his old perplexities had returned.  He rode along so deep in thought that the only impression reaching him from the external world was one of the warmth of the sun.