Ted stood very still in front of Glory Rock, and a prayer went up from his heart.... When the approaching man was very near he said, "Hello, Thornton." Carl Thornton stopped, and for a moment shocked surprise ruled his face. But it was only for a moment. He replied coolly, "Hello, Harkness." "I see," Ted observed, "that you got my message?" "Message?" "The one Nels Anderson gave you at seven o'clock this morning. The one that sent you up here." "What are you talking about?" "This--and I found it within six feet of where you're standing. Now do you think it could be the bullet that went through Smoky Delbert?" Ted took from his pocket the bullet he had dug out of Pythias and held it up between thumb and forefinger. Again, but only for an almost imperceptible part of a second, Carl Thornton's composure deserted him. Then, once more, he was the master of Crestwood and as such he had no association with ordinary residents of the Mahela. He said scornfully, "Give me that bullet." "Well now, I just don't think I will. The Sheriff, the State Police--and maybe others--will sure be interested as all get out. You'll have some explaining to do, Thornton, and _can you explain_?" "I want that bullet!" "Why do you want it, Thornton?" "Give me that bullet!" "Not so fast. I might _sell_ it to you. What's it worth for you to have it?" Carl Thornton's laugh carried an audible sneer. "You slob! You hill monkey! You're even lower than I thought! Sell the evidence that would clear your own father for money!" "Then you _did_ shoot Smoky!" "I want that bullet!" "Come take it." "I'll do just that." Ted balanced on the balls of his feet, a grin of sheerest delight on his face. Thornton was bigger than he--and heavier--and he was moving like a trained boxer. But because his back was turned, he did not see Tammie burst from the scrub beech and race him down. Tammie went into the air. His flying body struck squarely and Carl Thornton took two involuntary forward steps. He fell face downwards and rolled over to shield his throat with his right arm. Tammie's bared fangs gleamed an inch away and Thornton's voice was muffled. "Call him off! I'll give you a thousand dollars for the bullet!" "No, thanks," Ted said evenly, "and I wouldn't move if I were you. Anyway, I wouldn't move too far or fast. Tammie might get nervous." He raised his voice. "All right, Loring, I think he'll tell you the rest now." Ted scarcely noticed when Loring Blade came out from behind Glory Rock because his whole attention was centered on the man who emerged from the beech scrub. Al Harkness was lean as a wolf. His ragged hair had been hacked as short as possible with a hunting knife and his beard was bushy. His tattered clothing was held together with strips of deerskin, fox pelt, wildcat fur and fishing line. But his step was lithe and his eyes were clear and happy. "Hi, Ted!" "Hello, Dad!"