"How about this?"
Orde unfolded the paper and lowered it to the campfire. It was an
extra, screaming with wood type. He read it deliberately over.
WAR!
the headline ran.
RIOTING AND BLOODSHED IN THE WOODS
RIVERMEN AND DAM OWNERS CLASH!
There followed a vague and highly coloured statement to the effect
that an initial skirmish had left the field in possession of the
rivermen, in spite of the sheriff and a large posse, but that troops
were being rushed to the spot, and that this "high-handed defiance
of authority" would undoubtedly soon be suppressed. It concluded
truthfully with the statement that the loss of life was as yet
unknown.
Orde folded up the paper and handed it back.
"Don't you know any better than to get into that kind of a row down
here?" Daly had been saying. "Do you want to bring us up for good
here? Don't you realise that this isn't the northern peninsula?
What are you trying to do, any way?"
"Sure I do," replied Orde placidly. "Come along here till I show
you the situation."
Ten minutes later, Daly, relieved in his mind, was standing by the
fire drinking hot coffee and laughing at Orde's description of
Reed's plug hat.
To Orde's satisfaction, the sheriff did not reappear.
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