The Mesa Trail. H. Bedford-Jones

men are sure to be watchin’ everywhere, and this here location has got to be kept secret if possible. I s’pose the devils will get it from the land office, though. Joe, can you and Al show up in Zacaton City without occasioning no rumpus?”

      Gilbert shook his head doubtfully.

      “I reckon not, ma’am. We’re pretty well known there, and we ain’t right sure how things is fixed for us. Still, it won’t bother us none; if you say so, we’ll go——”

      “Nope; can’t take no chances with the letter and samples, boys. It’s up to Thady. He’s learned how to run the car, anyhow. Thady, you got to send them samples and a letter. No one’s goin’ to suspect you of bein’ partners with me, and be sure to send the samples in your own name, savvy?

      “They’s enough gas to take you into Zacaton, and ye can bring a fresh supply when ye come back. Then we need more flour an’ grub, for which same I got a list made out already. A new axe helve, too. Don’t forget that there axe helve, whatever ye do! It ain’t on the list—I guess ye can remember it all right. Sure, now! Don’t come without it. How soon can ye get going?”

      “Now,” said Shea, a slight smile curving his wide lips.