was not deceived.

"He has gone to San Francisco for more ammunition," she soliloquized.
"Very well, Unkie-dunk! While you're away, I shall manufacture a few
bombs myself."

After breakfast she left the house and walked to the intersection of
B with Water Street. Jules Rondeau and his crew of lumberjacks were
there, and with two policemen guarded the crossing.

Rondeau glanced at Shirley, surprised, then lifted his hat. Shirley
looked from the woods bully to the locomotive and back to Rondeau.

"Rondeau," she said, "Mr. Cardigan is a bad man to fight. You fought
him once. Are you going to do it again?"

He nodded.

"By whose orders?"

"Mr. Sexton, he tell me to do it."

"Well, Rondeau, some day I'll be boss of Laguna Grande and there'll
be no more fighting," she replied, and passed on down B Street to the
office of the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company. Moira McTavish looked
up as she entered.

"Where is he, dear?" Shirley asked. "I must see him."

"In that office, Miss Shirley," Moira replied, and pointed to the