But in spite of the excellent sport he was enjoying, Stranleigh became more and more anxious as time went on. Nothing had been heard from Stanley Armstrong. The fisher began to fear that the detective had failed in his search. On the morning of the fourth day he dressed in his ordinary tweed suit. The riding costume attracted more attention than was altogether convenient. He put in his pocket an automatic revolver of the latest construction; light, accurate and deadly. The day of the auction was drawing uncomfortably near, and he was determined that his journey should not be interrupted, as his former ride had been. Aside from this, he expected to carry with him a large amount of money, and if any word of that got abroad, he knew a holdup was quite within the range of possibility. The coterie confined in the bunk house would doubtless learn that they were their own gaolers, and with that gang once free upon the landscape, he anticipated interruption which, if successful, would completely nullify his plans. "Are you going fishing to-day?" asked Miss Armstrong, when he came downstairs. He had appeared unexpectedly soon that morning. The young woman was always an early riser. "Fishing!" echoed Stranleigh. "Yes, in a manner of speaking. Isn't there a text which refers to fishers of men? I'm going fishing for your father. We should have had him here before this, but now the need of him becomes imperative. I imagine that a telegram awaits me in Bleachers. If not, I must communicate with New York, and wait for a reply." Stranleigh walked up the hill to the bunk house, and rapped at the panel with the butt of his riding whip. Dean himself threw open the door, and he could not conceal his astonishment at seeing the young man standing there, apparently unarmed. "Good morning, Jim," said Stranleigh cordially. "I wish to enjoy a few minutes' conversation with the company before leaving for Bleachers." "None of the company are out of their bunks yet, except myself, but I guess they're wide enough awake to hear what you say. Won't you come inside?" "Thank you," said Stranleigh, stepping across the threshold; then, to the sleeping beauties--"The top of the morning to you! Early to bed and late to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. Has wisdom come to you since I left? Do you still intend to shoot up Bleachers on auction day?" "You bet we do," said Dean. Stranleigh seated himself upon the chair he had formerly occupied. "How did you propose to get out?" "By the same way you escaped," responded Dean with determination. "What an inconvenient exit! I speak from sooty experience. Why not have gone by the doorway?" "We didn't want to get shot," said Jim. "There was no danger of that. I have been spending my days in fishing, and my nights in sound sleep." "Do you mean to say," cried Jim, "that there's been nobody on guard?" "No; you've been as free as air to go where you pleased."