about the same size, but who knows? We'd have to take shots of these and then blow them up to see if they're the same."
"Then let's go ahead and walk up to Walter Ecks's house," Callie suggested. "We can call a tow truck from there. The sooner we get to town, the sooner you guys can develop Frank's film."
After Frank had shot pictures of the boot-prints, the Hardys and Callie started up the narrow road toward the cutoff to Stoner Mountain. "It's nice to be hiking, anyway," Callie remarked as they gazed out at the endless vistas of forest that appeared whenever the road took a sharp bend. "After what happened to Uncle Stan I'd given up on hiking."
A short time later Joe glimpsed a neat, cedar-
Deadfall
shingled cabin through a break in the bushy green fir trees lining the road. "Is that it?" he asked Callie.
Callie nodded. '*Sure is," she said. *'And there's Walter himself, sitting on the front porch. I guess he doesn't have much to do now that Horizon's closed down."
Joe spotted the grizzled old man in faded overalls and a dirty white T-shirt, reading the newspaper in the morning sun.
As they approached, an old bloodhound jumped down from the porch and barked until Ecks silenced it with a sharp command.
''Hi there, Callie." Ecks waved to her and seemed to be surprised to see her. "I heard you were back with us this summer. What are you doing all the way up here?"
"Hi, Walt," Callie replied, smiling. "These are my friends Frank and Joe Hardy. We were on our way up to visit you, and our jeep was run off the road by one of Buster's bulldozers."
''What?'* Ecks exploded, his face red with anger. "It's those Greens again," he said in a trembling voice. "Horizon has an equipment yard here on Stoner Mountain. Those fanatics aren't satisfied with killing a perfectly good, hardworking lumberjack, I guess. Now they've got to steal our bulldozers and run strangers off mountains!"
"Why would the Greens pull something like that?" Joe asked seriously. "We're not even loggers."
THE HARDY BOYS CA5EFILES
The old man ran a hand across his mouth. His fierce brown eyes glared out at them above a week's worth of whiskers. Joe realized that Ecks had probably been a very tough foreman in his younger days. 'They want to scare people," he said. '*Callie's uncle is different. But the others who've passed through here ..." He scowled. "Take that Vance Galen fellow. He's the type to plant bombs in the woods and put spikes in the trees to ruin saw blades. Don't think 1 haven't seen it happen before!"
*'Do you think Galen killed Buster Owens?" Frank asked evenly.
Ecks's mouth dropped open. "Murder's not a word to throw around lightly, son," he said at last. "Galen's reckless—definitely—but I don't know that he's a cold-blooded killer." He turned from Frank to CaUie. "What exactly did you want to see me about?" he asked sharply.
"Uncle Stan told us he'd been talking with Owens about a plan for conserving trees," Gallic said quickly. "He had a meeting with Buster right before the fire. He didn't mention what it was about, but he said you and Millie Owens knew. We were hoping you could teU us more about it."
Ecks eyed CalHe suspiciously. "Why don't you ask your uncle?" he said.
"We did," Joe broke in. "He won't tell us. The problem is, Stan doesn't seem to realize that he needs to clear himself or the sheriffs going to bring charges. I guess your telling us about
Deadfall
the meeting would be kind of like saving Stan from himself."
Ecks shook his head skeptically. ''I don't know," he said. ''Buster Owens made me swear not to tell anyone. He said there'd be bloodshed if anyone found out. And by golly, maybe there was."
''Can't you tell us anything?" Callie asked.
Ecks hesitated. Then he sighed. "I'll tell you this much. It has something to do with that Forest Service contract that's coming up soon. Stan was helping Buster work out a way to win it."
Callie frowned. "That doesn't sound so dangerous—except maybe to someone who
"Then let's go ahead and walk up to Walter Ecks's house," Callie suggested. "We can call a tow truck from there. The sooner we get to town, the sooner you guys can develop Frank's film."
After Frank had shot pictures of the boot-prints, the Hardys and Callie started up the narrow road toward the cutoff to Stoner Mountain. "It's nice to be hiking, anyway," Callie remarked as they gazed out at the endless vistas of forest that appeared whenever the road took a sharp bend. "After what happened to Uncle Stan I'd given up on hiking."
A short time later Joe glimpsed a neat, cedar-
Deadfall
shingled cabin through a break in the bushy green fir trees lining the road. "Is that it?" he asked Callie.
Callie nodded. '*Sure is," she said. *'And there's Walter himself, sitting on the front porch. I guess he doesn't have much to do now that Horizon's closed down."
Joe spotted the grizzled old man in faded overalls and a dirty white T-shirt, reading the newspaper in the morning sun.
As they approached, an old bloodhound jumped down from the porch and barked until Ecks silenced it with a sharp command.
''Hi there, Callie." Ecks waved to her and seemed to be surprised to see her. "I heard you were back with us this summer. What are you doing all the way up here?"
"Hi, Walt," Callie replied, smiling. "These are my friends Frank and Joe Hardy. We were on our way up to visit you, and our jeep was run off the road by one of Buster's bulldozers."
''What?'* Ecks exploded, his face red with anger. "It's those Greens again," he said in a trembling voice. "Horizon has an equipment yard here on Stoner Mountain. Those fanatics aren't satisfied with killing a perfectly good, hardworking lumberjack, I guess. Now they've got to steal our bulldozers and run strangers off mountains!"
"Why would the Greens pull something like that?" Joe asked seriously. "We're not even loggers."
THE HARDY BOYS CA5EFILES
The old man ran a hand across his mouth. His fierce brown eyes glared out at them above a week's worth of whiskers. Joe realized that Ecks had probably been a very tough foreman in his younger days. 'They want to scare people," he said. '*Callie's uncle is different. But the others who've passed through here ..." He scowled. "Take that Vance Galen fellow. He's the type to plant bombs in the woods and put spikes in the trees to ruin saw blades. Don't think 1 haven't seen it happen before!"
*'Do you think Galen killed Buster Owens?" Frank asked evenly.
Ecks's mouth dropped open. "Murder's not a word to throw around lightly, son," he said at last. "Galen's reckless—definitely—but I don't know that he's a cold-blooded killer." He turned from Frank to CaUie. "What exactly did you want to see me about?" he asked sharply.
"Uncle Stan told us he'd been talking with Owens about a plan for conserving trees," Gallic said quickly. "He had a meeting with Buster right before the fire. He didn't mention what it was about, but he said you and Millie Owens knew. We were hoping you could teU us more about it."
Ecks eyed CalHe suspiciously. "Why don't you ask your uncle?" he said.
"We did," Joe broke in. "He won't tell us. The problem is, Stan doesn't seem to realize that he needs to clear himself or the sheriffs going to bring charges. I guess your telling us about
Deadfall
the meeting would be kind of like saving Stan from himself."
Ecks shook his head skeptically. ''I don't know," he said. ''Buster Owens made me swear not to tell anyone. He said there'd be bloodshed if anyone found out. And by golly, maybe there was."
''Can't you tell us anything?" Callie asked.
Ecks hesitated. Then he sighed. "I'll tell you this much. It has something to do with that Forest Service contract that's coming up soon. Stan was helping Buster work out a way to win it."
Callie frowned. "That doesn't sound so dangerous—except maybe to someone who
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