"If I could get hold of the folks who did the thing it would be a consolation, but I haven't the least notion how to trail them." "One man couldn't have moved it," said Mr. Oliver. "There were three of them. The question is, what brought them here? I guess they didn't come just to smash the machine." Mr. Oliver seemed lost a moment in contemplation. "I think you're right," he said at length. "They probably came because this is the easiest way of getting through to the settlements in the Basker district and the beach behind the head makes a handy landing. We'll go along and look around. I don't think they'd try the cove. It's too near the house." They turned into a bush trail together, and when they reached the beach a little while later Jake, stooping over a furrow in the smooth shingle by the water's edge, looked up at Mr. Oliver. "A sea canoe grounded here soon after last high water," he said. "You can see where they ran her down when it had ebbed a little." Mr. Oliver, who was still quietly smoking, nodded. "Yes," he said, "it's very much as I expected. With a sheltered landing here and as good a trail inland as they could find, it's not difficult to understand why those fellows were anxious that I should stand in with them, or, at least, leave them alone. This thing, of course, was meant as a warning." Then he addressed the boys: "You needn't wait. You can get some more of those branches sawed off in the slashing." They moved away and left him talking to Jake, and it was not until they had reached the bush that Harry made any observation. "I've a notion that we're up against the meanest kind of toughs, but in the long run I'll back dad," he said. "It's quite likely that if we lie low you and I may get a hand in later on." Frank made no answer, though the prospect his companion suggested was not unpleasant to him. Going back to their work they sawed up branches until nightfall. On the following afternoon they were still engaged at the same task at some distance from the house when they saw Jake, who had set out for a neighboring ranch in the morning, enter the clearing, dragging a big and evidently very unwilling animal after him. He sat down upon a log, and Harry dropped his ax. "It's Webster's dog," he said to Frank. "I heard that somebody had given him one. We'll go along and look at him." They found Jake rather breathless and very red in face, holding the end of a chain fastened to the collar of the dog, who crouched close by watching him with wicked eyes and white fangs bared. A serviceable club lay beside Jake, but it seemed to Frank that he had got as far away from the animal as the chain permitted. The lad was, however, not astonished at this, for he fancied he had never seen as intractable and generally unprepossessing a dog as this one. "Dad's borrowed him from Webster?" Harry suggested.