He put the package into his pocket, and his eyes squinted at the sheriff’s star on Brick’s shirt. “Sheriff, eh?” he queried. “Uh-huh,” smiled Brick. “We have to carry our label—like a can of tomatoes.” “Or a box of dynamite,” added the stranger dryly. “Well, I reckon I’ll be driftin’ on. Much obliged for the tobacco, sheriff. _Adiós._” Brick and Harp nodded and rode on up the grades. At the top of the long climb they drew up their horses and looked back. The stranger was but a tiny speck, moving slowly down the cañon. “Didja ever see him before, Brick?” queried Harp. “Nope. But there’s somethin’ about him that reminds me of somebody.” “Me too,” nodded Harp. “I ain’t got the slightest idea who he looks like though. Sure wears a fancy lot of leather. I hate to see a feller hammer his chaps full of rivets that-a-way.” They rode on along the narrow grades and drew up at the Red Hill mine office. Barney Devine, a slight, hatchet-faced, nervous sort of a person, met them at the office door and greeted them effusively. “How’s tricks, Barney?” asked Brick, stretching his legs in one of Barney’s comfortable chairs and accepting a cigar. “Pretty good,” replied the mine superintendent. “Everything is going along pretty fine. Property is getting richer all the time. We just cut a new vein that runs pretty high. How is everything in Marlin City?” “So, so. Nothin’ much new goin’ on.” “I heard about you and the grizzly,” smiled Devine. “Baldy Malloy sure told everybody about it. He seems to think it was the greatest thing that was ever done.” “It was fun while it lasted,” smiled Brick. “It must have been.” Devine shook his head. “Some folks have queer ideas of fun. Anyway, what brought you up here, Brick?” “Oh, just to see if you had dried up and blowed away yet. You get thinner every day, Barney.” “I knew that was why you came,” said Barney dryly. “But that wasn’t all, was it?” “Just a little information,” confided Brick. “How much did that hold-up nick you, Barney?” “Thirty-eight hundred dollars.” “Uh-huh. How often do you ship by stage?” Barney shook his head slowly. “Not any more. Anyway, nobody will know when we do.” “Who knew about this shipment?” “Not a darned soul, Brick. Baldy Malloy carries one of those old treasure-boxes for small packages. I gave him this box and told him to deliver it to the bank at Silverton. It was just a plain wooden box, with the cover just nailed on. There wasn’t a thing to indicate what was in it.” “Whole thing would weigh about fourteen or fifteen pounds, wouldn’t it? And it was consigned to the bank?” “Yes. If the stage was held up the robbers would probably investigate that old treasure-box. But how do you suppose they knew when it was to be shipped?” Brick shook his head. “That wasn’t the first shipment you’ve made, was it?” “No. But there was no schedule, Brick. We shipped when it was ready.”