"But, all the same, you must explain. Who are you?"
"That part is easy, at least," returned the other. "Though the
circumstance of our meeting _is_ a temptation to lie."
"Which would do you no good, and might lead to unpleasant complications,"
retorted the Ranger, sharply.
The man under question, still embarrassed, laughed shortly, as he
returned, "I really was not thinking of it seriously. My name is Aaron
King. I am an artist. You are Mr. Oakley, I suppose."
The officer nodded--beginning to smile. "Yes, I am Brian Oakley."
The artist continued, "A month ago, Conrad Lagrange and I came into the
mountains for an outing. We stopped at the Station, but there was no one
at home. Most of the time, we have been just roaming around. Now, we are
camped down there, back of that old apple orchard."
The Ranger broke into a laugh. "Mrs. Oakley was visiting friends up the
canyon, the day you came in; but Morton told me. I've crossed your trail a
dozen times, and sighted you nearly as many; but I was always too busy to
go to you. I knew Lagrange didn't need any attention, you see; so I just
figured on meeting up with you somewhere by accident like--about meal
time, mebbe.
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