"Veston, he vas de man dot Doc here mended," Weimer volunteered. "Doc vas at Dry Creek mit Veston." Leslie glanced quickly across the table. "Not the man who was there when I passed through--the day I was with Wilson--not that one, Ross?" "The same," nodded Ross. "He's the Lon Weston that I know." "Then he isn't the Lon Weston that I know," said Leslie with conviction and also relief. "That man at Dry Creek had dark hair, while the ranch foreman had hair as light almost as Sandy's. Not the same at all." And because of the note at "The Irma," Ross did not contradict Leslie, did not tell him that Weston's hair was still light beneath its dye of chestnut brown. "But some day," he thought, "I can ask him about the fourth man that his father is after, and so find out about Weston in a roundabout way." But the search for the dynamite soon proved so strenuous that all thought of the crime committed on the North Fork faded from Ross's mind. Day after day the boys continued the search while Weimer stayed in the cabin "rustling grub" and giving suggestions. The theft of the sticks seemed to have shocked the man into something of his former mental keenness and industry. Not once did Ross have to urge him to his household tasks. When the boys tramped into the cabin at noon or long after darkness had fallen, they found a hearty appetizing meal prepared, the cook even going to the length of objecting to their washing the dishes. "If you dem sticks find," he would say, "Ich vill stay mit dese dishes." "Uncle Jake," exclaimed Ross at noon the third day of the hunt, "I'm discouraged. We have poked into every spot for miles around where such a lot of dynamite could be hidden--and then have gone again." "I'm almost ready to believe," declared Leslie, "that the boys had the sticks in their packs when they left." Weimer shook his head. "No, never would dose poys pe so foolish. Dose sticks are here, hein? Somewhere in Meadow Creek Valley ve vill find dem," but the old man's voice broke on the declaration. "Of course it couldn't be that the McKenzies carried them away," affirmed Ross. "If there had been six men of them they couldn't have carried away all the dynamite that we had and Wilson had and they had. In fact they couldn't have carried it all very far that night and in the teeth of the awful storm that howled among these peaks. I believe with Uncle Jake that the stuff is in this valley." "You see, Uncle Jake," Ross began after a pause, "we have gone on the supposition that they chose a spot under the cover of rocks or in hollow trees, some place where the dynamite would be kept dry. Now, it may be that they have dug a hole in the snow and ice, and buried it in the open, and the snow has drifted over its grave." "Maype! maype!" Weimer ejaculated. "Put, if dey haf, our goose, it ist cooked." He pushed the box on which he sat back against the wall.