"You were with the boys at Forks Butte when they swung the creek?" "Sure," assented Mr. Barclay with a laugh. "I didn't expect you'd have heard of it. You certainly weren't ranching then." "I've heard of it lots of times," declared Harry, turning excitedly to Frank. "It was one of the biggest things ever done by a few men this side of the Cascades. The old-timers talk about it yet. A mining row--there were about a dozen of them working some alluvial claims on a disputed location. I don't know the whole of it, but the thing turned upon the frontage, and they stood off a swarm of jumpers while they shifted the creek." "Something like that," said Mr. Barclay. "In those days they interpreted the mining laws with a certain amount of sentiment, which--and in some respects it's a pity--they don't do now." He paused and flicked the ash from his cigar. "I understand you have been seeing a mysterious schooner." His tone was sufficiently ironical to put Harry on his mettle, and he furnished a full and particular account of the vessel. When he had finished Mr. Barclay glanced at him with amusement in his eyes. "You have an idea there might be smugglers on board of her?" he suggested. "It's more than an idea. I'm sure." "I wonder if you could tell me why?" It was rather difficult to answer, but Harry made the attempt, furnishing his questioner with half a dozen reasons which did not seem to have much effect on him. "Well," he persisted, "you're convinced she had opium and Chinamen on board her?" "Aren't you?" Mr. Barclay looked up with a smile. "At the present moment I can't form an opinion. After all, it's possible." He rose, and as he was strolling away toward the house Harry's face contracted into an indignant frown. "That man must have been cooking, or something of the kind, at Forks Butte," he broke out contemptuously. "Anyway, it was the last time he ever did anything worth talking about. Did you ever run up against such a stuffed image?" Frank was far from certain that this description was altogether applicable to the stranger, but Harry seemed so much annoyed that he did not express his opinion, and they got down into the trench again. When they went back to the ranch an hour later they heard that Mr. Oliver and Mr. Barclay had gone to a neighboring ranch and intended to make a journey into the bush if they could borrow horses. When the boys were eating breakfast the next morning Miss Oliver turned to Harry. "We have run out of pork, and the flour is almost gone," she said. "I meant to ask your father to bring some when he went up to the settlement, but I forgot it, and Jake must bring in those steers to-day." "We'll go," broke in Harry quickly. "There's a nice sailing breeze." His aunt looked doubtful. "You have never been so far with the sloop unless Jake was with you; and isn't there a nasty tide-rip somewhere? Still, I don't know what I shall do unless I get the flour."