"The only thing the pup takes notice of is, as Emma Dean says, food!" laughed Grace. "Someone _is_ coming, Tom." "Hindenburg!" commanded Tom Gray sharply. The bull pup, sleeping by the fire, roused himself, wiggled his stubbed tail, and, rolling over on his side, yawned and promptly went to sleep again. Tom Gray glanced quickly towards the shadows that lay to the rear of them, and, as he did so, a figure appeared. "Willy, is that you?" he demanded, as a familiar movement revealed the identity of the figure. "Yes." Grace asked the Indian where he had been. He mumbled an unintelligible reply, then turned to Tom. "Two men come. They watch shack. Me want to shoot, but not do." "Certainly not," rebuked Tom. "What do you think they want?" "Come spy on camp. I spy on them. Fix guns and creep up. Look in windows and whisper. Bah! No good. What do?" "Have they rifles? Perhaps they are hunters," suggested Tom. "No hunt. Me watch." Willy Horse melted into the shadows. "Who can it be?" wondered Grace. "Hunters, of course. Willy Horse's zeal has run away with his judgment. I think--" Tom paused. Protesting voices were heard back in the forest, voices raised in angry resentment. Two men suddenly burst out into the light of the campfire, followed by Willy Horse close at their heels, his rifle pressed against the back of a panting man. CHAPTER XX PEACE OR WAR? "Here, here! What's this?" demanded Tom Gray, springing up. "Willy!" "This is an outrage!" panted the man against whose back Willy Horse held the rifle. The stranger's red hair fairly bristled as he cautiously removed his hat and mopped the perspiration from face and forehead. "I'll have the law on you, you low-down redskin!" "Easy there, pardner. This Indian is not low-down," retorted Tom Gray in a warning tone. "Willy is our friend. What is it you wish, sir?" "Am I on the section recently purchased by Wingate & Gray?" "You are, sir. I am Tom Gray. Mr. Wingate will be here shortly. Won't you sit down?" urged Tom. "That is all right, Willy. Please ask Lieutenant Wingate to come here," he added, nodding and smiling to the Indian, who backed away into the shadows. "I am Chet Ainsworth, timber agent," said the stranger. "This is my guide, Tobe Skinner. I'm here to talk a little business with you. Tobe thought he knew the way, but we got a thousand miles out of it. While we were trying to decide whether this was a lumber camp or a state's prison colony that Indian ruffian got the drop on us and drove us in. Tobe would have shot him on the spot if the Indian hadn't beat him to it by getting the drop on him. I'll see the Indian agent 'bout that when I go back. I'll--" "Hippy!" called Tom as he saw Lieutenant Wingate and others of the Overland outfit strolling towards camp. "Meet Mr. Ainsworth, and his guide, Mr. Skinner. They are here on a business matter, the nature of which I do not know. We are ready to hear what you have to say, Mr. Ainsworth."