"Don't you worry about me, Dad. I'll be all right. What we've got to think about is not to let it get out who you are. If it wasn't for that big bully up at the house--" She stopped, hopelessly unable to cope with the situation. Whenever she thought of Houck her mind came to an _impasse_. Every road of escape it traveled was blocked by his jeering face, with the jutting jaw set in implacable resolution. "It don't look like Jake would throw me down thataway," he bewailed. "I never done him a meanness. I kep' my mouth shut when they got me an' wouldn't tell who was in with me. Tha's one reason they soaked me with so long a sentence. They was after Jake. They kep' at me to turn state's evidence an' get a short term. But o' course I couldn't do that." "'Course not. An' now he turns on you like a coyote--after you stood by him." A surge of indignation boiled up in her. "He's the very worst man ever I knew--an' if he tries to do you any harm I'll--I'll settle with him." Her father shook his unkempt head. "No, honey. I been learnin' for twelve years that a man can't do wrong for to get out of a hole he's in. If Jake's mean enough to give me up, why, I reckon I'll have to stand the gaff." "No," denied June, a spark of flaming resolution in her shining eyes. CHAPTER VI "DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM!" Inside the big chuck tent of the construction camp the cook was busy forking steak to tin plates and ladling potatoes into deep dishes. "Git a move on you, Red Haid," he ordered. Bob Dillon distributed the food at intervals along the table which ran nearly the whole length of the canvas top. From an immense coffee pot he poured the clear brown liquid into tin cups set beside each plate. This done, he passed out into the sunshine and beat the triangle. From every tent men poured like seeds squirted from a squeezed lemon. They were all in a hurry and they jostled each other in their eagerness to get through the open flap. Straw boss, wood walkers, and ground men, they were all hungry. They ate swiftly and largely. The cook and his flunkey were kept busy. "More spuds!" called one. "Coming up!" Dillon flung back cheerfully. "Shoot along more biscuits!" a second ordered. "On the way!" Bob announced. The boss of the outfit came in leisurely after the rush. He brought a guest with him and they sat down at the end of the table. "Beans!" demanded a line man, his mouth full. "Headed for you!" promised the flunkey. The guest of the boss was a big rangy fellow in the early forties. Bob heard the boss call him "Jake," and later "Houck." As soon as the boy had a moment to spare he took a good look at the man. He did not like what he saw. Was it the cold, close-set eyes, the crook of the large nose, or the tight-lipped mouth gave the fellow that semblance to a rapacious wolf?