As Tom rode up, he noticed that the man had changed his denim shirt for a clean wool one, and had treated the cut on his face with iodine. He was still packing his revolver, though, and a rifle leaned against the railing of the porch.
“Hello, Rainse,” the stranger greeted him. “I thought I’d better wait for you and explain about my using your cabin.”
“That’s all right,” said Tom awkwardly. “It was empty. You a stranger in these parts?”
“I was,” the red-haired man replied grimly, “but I’m getting acquainted.” He fingered his scarred cheek. “I’m Buck Brunt, the game warden for this district.”
Tom dismounted without replying. So his uninvited guest was the man who had the thankless job of bringing game laws to the mountains! One mystery was solved, anyway.
“After the Black Elk, eh?” he a
