"I see. What were you doing when these--uh--when these Whitneys shot your pop?" "I was in Ackerton." Dan named the nearest city. Again Jeff was surprised. "What were you doing there?" "Pop sent me to Jackson School there. Said he was a hill man but he didn't want me to be one. He said there were better things." "_Hm-m._ How did you get here?" "Walked," Dan answered matter-of-factly. "Didn't anyone try to stop you?" "A policeman did before I was out of Ackerton. I got away, and after that I walked at night." "Do you have any relatives?" "I'm the only one left in the Blazer family and I aim to kill every danged Whitney! That way I'll be sure to get the one who got Pop!" Jeff said drily, "Nothing like being thorough. You're sure the Whitneys did get your pop?" "They're the ones he fought most with." "But he fought with others too?" "Well, yes." "Hadn't we better do a bit of thinking before we shoot all the Whitneys?" "We? Why do you want to mix in?" "I've got your pop's dog, haven't I? That gives me the right, doesn't it?" Dan looked doubtfully at Jeff. "Do you really think so?" "Certainly I think so, but let's not go off half-cocked. This is going to take a bit of figuring. We can't just wander around leaving corpses all over the woods." "What would you do?" "Find who really shot your pop and get him." "I never thought of that," Dan admitted. "Let's talk about it over a good meal. That sound all right?" "Great but--I'm down to corn meal mush." "Tonight we'll have something else," Jeff decided. "I was just going in to Smithville to buy grub. Do you like pork chops?" "Oh, boy!" Dan licked his lips. "But why should you buy me anything?" "If we're partners," Jeff said firmly, "we share and share alike. You can understand that. We're already sharing the cabin." Confidence and hope warmed Dan's eyes. He smiled, and Jeff reflected that that was the way he should always look. "Uh--Jeff." "What's up?" "Do you think you could bring some shells for this shotgun?" "On one condition. The gun isn't shot at anything, or anybody, unless both of us know about it." "All right," Dan agreed. Pal went to the door with him. Jeff shoved the dog back, shut the door, and struck into the gathering twilight. He shook a bewildered head. Was it a year ago, or only a few days, that he had been the footloose owner-manager-working force of Tarrant Enterprises, Ltd.? Why was he burdened now with a dog that few other people wanted and a boy that nobody wanted very much? Why hadn't he left both where he found them and accepted just his own responsibilities? He shook his head again and murmured to himself, "Darn fool! Tarrant, of all the pinheaded things you've ever done, these take the hand-polished railroad spike!"