Charley wrote a few lines on a telegram blank and shoved it over to him. "Will you rush that through for me?" he asked. The agent grinned as he read the telegram: "JAMES K. RILEY, Jacksonville, Fla. Please send at once your price list of staple groceries. WEST, HAZARD, WESTFIELD & CO." "Merchants here didn't exactly fold you to their bosoms, when they learned that you were Murphy's successor?" he asked. "Not so you could notice it," Charley admitted, with a smile. "One can't blame them much for being sore, but, of course, we have got to look out for ourselves." "Sure," assented the agent, "you're making a wise move at that, kid. It's a 250-mile haul from Jacksonville here, and the freights will be high, but, even so, you'll get your stuff 20 per cent, cheaper than the merchants here would charge you. The charge on this message will be a quarter." Charley paid over the twenty-five cents and hurried out to the truck, where his companions were impatiently awaiting him. As they whirled out on the dirt road leading to the camp he explained to them what he had been doing. "You did just right," approved the Captain. "There can't be more than one captain to a ship, and I reckon you have got to be captain of this one until she sails into port or is wrecked on the rocks. You have got more business sense than the rest of us. I don't reckon because you made one slip that you are going to keep on making them. We will back you up with the last dollar we've got in the bank, won't we, lads?" "Sure," said Walter heartily. "Sho'," Chris agreed solemnly. "Thanks," said Charley simply. "I'll do my best. Now, Walt, I wish you would show me how to run this truck. I've got a hunch that I'm going to have to use it a whole lot the next few months, and now's as good a time as any to learn." Fortunately the truck mechanism was very simple. And in half an hour Charley had so far mastered the principles of the different levers that he felt sure that he could run it if necessity demanded. "There's one thing more to do before we reach camp," Charley said, when his lesson was finished. "We ought to unpack our pistols and have them handy in our pockets. I don't expect trouble, but it is just as well to be ready for it. I guess there are some pretty tough characters in that bunch. I noticed, big man as he is, Murphy had a couple of big pistols strapped on him when he was in camp." The pistols were gotten out of the pack and carefully oiled and reloaded. They were late purchases and looked as small and harmless as toy pistols, but their appearance was deceiving. In reality they were automatics of the latest make, deadly accurate, and each, when loaded, carried 11 steel-jacketed bullets, that could be discharged in as many seconds. When slipped into a coat pocket they made only a slight bulge.