As Tom had surmised, Dolph Gage was anxious to become friends with the young engineers.
"They're only kids," Dolph explained to his comrades, "but I've heard that they know their business. If we can get their help for a month, then when they hand in their bill we can give them a wooden check on a cloud bank."
"Their bill would be a claim against our mine wouldn't it?" asked one of the other men.
"Maybe," Dolph assented. "But, if they try to press it, we can pay it with lead coin."
The morning after Jim had gone, one of Gage's companions stalked into camp.
"The boss wants to see you," said this messenger.
"Whose boss?" Tom inquired.
"Well, maybe he's yours," scowled the messenger. "And maybe you'll be sorry if you fool with him."
"I? Fool with Gage?" inquired Reade, opening his eyes in pretended astonishment. "My dear fellow, I've no intention of doing anything of the sort."
"Then you'll come over to our camp, right away?"
"Nothing like it," Tom replied. "Kindly present my compliments to your boss, and tell him that I have another appointment for today."
"You'd better come over," warned the fellow.
"You heard what I said, didn't you?" Reade inquired.
"There'll sure be trouble," insisted the fellow, scowling darkly.
"There's always trouble for those who are looking for it," Tom rejoined smilingly. "Is Dolph Gage hunting it?"
"You'll find out, if you don't come over!"
"Really," argued Reade, "we've disposed of that subject, my dear fellow. Have you any other business here! If not, you'll excuse us. Mr. Hazelton and I are to be gone for the day."
"Going prospecting?"
"We're going minding," smiled Reade.
"Mining?" repeated the visitor. "Mining what?"
"We are going off to mind our own business," Tom drawled. "Good morning."
"Then you're not coming over to our place?"
"No!" shouted Harry Hazelton, losing patience. "What do you want?"
"As you will observe, friend," suggested Tom, smiling at the messenger, "my partner has well mastered the lesson that a soft answer is a soother."
"Are you going to leave our camp?" Harry demanded, as the visitor squatted on the ground.
"If you two are going away," scowled the other, "you'll need some one to stay and watch the camp. I'll stay for you."
"Come on, Harry!" Tom called, starting away under the trees. Alf Drew had already gone. Breakfast being over the young cigarette fiend had no notion of staying in camp for a share in any trouble that might be brewing.
"Why on earth are you leaving the camp at that fellow's mercy?" quivered Harry indignantly, as he and Tom got just out of earshot of the visitor.
"Because I suspect," Reade returned, "that he and his crowd want to steal our assaying outfit."
"And you're leaving the coast clear for that purpose?" Hazelton gasped in high dudgeon.
"Now, Harry, is that all you know about me?" questioned his partner, reproachfully. "Listen. Around here you'll find plenty of stones of a throwing size. Just fill your pockets, your hands—-your hat. Creep in close to camp and hide. If you see 'Mr. Sulky' poking his nose into anything in our camp—-the furnace, for instance, or the assay balance, then just drop a stone so near to him that it will make him jump. Be careful that you don't drop a stone on that balance. You used to be a pretty fair pitcher, and I believe you can drop a stone where you want."
"And what will you be doing?" asked Harry curiously.
"Oh, I'll be keeping out of harm's way, I promise you," laughedTom Reade.
"Humph! Yes, it would be like you to put me into danger and to leave yourself out of it, wouldn't it?" mocked Harry Hazelton, unbelievingly.
"Well, I'll try to make good use of my time, Harry, old fellow. For one thing, if you haunt camp and keep Gage's crowd busy, then you'll keep them from following or watching me. Don't you see?"
"No; I don't see," grunted Hazelton. "But what I do suspect is that you have something up your sleeve that I may not find out for two or three days to come. Yet, whatever it is, it will be for our mutual good. I can depend upon you, Tom Reade! Go ahead; go as far as you like."
"Get the stones gathered up, then, and get back to camp," counseled Reade. "Don't lose too much time about it, for Gage's rascal may be able to do a lot of harm in the two or three minutes that you might be late in getting back."
Harry industriously picked up stones. Hardly had he started whenTom Reade silently vanished.
"Well, I'm glad, anyway, that Tom doesn't want us both away from camp while he's doing something," reflected Hazelton, as he began to move cautiously back. "There wouldn't be any camp by noon if we were both away."
Even before he secured his first glimpse of camp, Harry heard some one moving about there.
"The rascal must feel pretty sure that we're both fools enough to be away," quivered Hazelton indignantly. "What on earth is he doing, anyway?"
Then the young engineer crawled in close enough to get an excellent view of what was going on.
"Well, of all the impudence!" choked Harry, balancing a stone nicely in his right hand.
First of all the visitor had rounded up all the firewood into one heap. Now, to this combustible material the fellow was bringing a side of bacon and a small bag of flour. These he dropped on the firewood, then went back for more of the camp's food supply.
"Just wait," scowled Hazelton. "Oh, my fine fellow, I'll make your hands too hot for holding other people's property!"
Over the brush arched a stone. Hazelton had been a pitcher in his high school days, and no mistake. The descending stone fell smack across the back of the fellow's right hand.
"That's right! Howl!" cried Harry, exultantly. "Now, for a surprise."
The second stone flew with better speed, carrying away the fellow's hat without hitting his head.
"Hey, you, stop that!" roared the fellow.
From behind the bushes all was quiet. The camp prowler stood up straight, staring to see whence the next stone would come. After nearly two minutes he bent to pick up the case of biscuit that he had dropped.
Smack! Even as his nearer hand touched the box a sharp stone struck the back of that hand, cutting a gash and causing the blood to spurt.
"I'll have your scalp for that!" howled the enraged man. Making a pretty good guess at the direction from which the stone had come, the fellow started toward the brush on a run.
"Here's where you get all of yours!" chuckled Harry Hazelton.Still crouching he let three stones fly one after the other.The first struck the prowler in the mouth, the second on theend of the nose and the third over the pit of his stomach.
"You two-legged Gatling gun!" howled the fellow, shaking with rage and pain. He halted, shaking his fist in the direction from which the stones had come.
Another lot of stones flew toward him. The prowler waited no longer, but turned, making for Gage's camp as fast as he could go.
"That ought to hold those rascals for a little while," speculated Harry. "But, of course, there'll be a come-back. What'll they do to me now, I wonder?"
By way of precaution Hazelton cautiously shifted to another hiding place. Within fifteen minutes he saw the same prowler stealing back into camp. When the fellow was near enough, Harry let fly a stone that dropped near the rascal's toes.
"Hey, you stop that, or I'll make you wish you had!" roared the fellow, shaking his fist.
Harry's answer was to drive two more stones in, sending them close to the fellow, yet without hitting him.
Again the man shouted at him, though he did not attempt to come any nearer to so expert a thrower of stones.
Then, suddenly, just behind him, Harry Hazelton heard a sound. In the next instant two men hurled themselves upon the young engineer, pinning him to the ground.
"I ought to have suspected this!" grunted Harry inwardly, as he fought back with all his strength. He might have succeeded in slipping away from the two men who sought to pin him down, but the third man, still aching from contact with Harry's missiles, now darted into the scrimmage, striking several hard blows. Harry was presently conquered and tied.
"Take the cub to his own camp!" sounded the exultant voice of Dolph Gage. "With one of the pair tied, it won't be hard to handle the other whenever he happens along."
"Take another hitch of rope around that young steer," Dolph ordered, after he had flung Harry violently to the ground.
"He wont get away as he is," replied one of the other two men.
"Maybe not, but take an extra roping, as I told you," was Gage's tart retort.
So another length of line was passed around Hazelton, until he felt as though he had been done up in network.
"Now; we'll give your partner a chance to show up," muttered Gage, throwing himself on the ground. "You young fellers will have to learn the lesson that you're thirty miles from anywhere, and that we rule matters around here. We're going to keep on ruling, too, in this strip of Nevada."
"Are you?" grimaced Hazelton. "Then, my friend, allow me to tell you that you are making the mistake of trying to reckon without Tom Reade!"
"Is that your partner's name?" jeered Dolph Gage. "A likely enough boy, from what I've heard of him. But he isn't old enough to understand Nevada ways."
"No, perhaps not," Harry admitted ironically. "So far Tom has gotten his training only in Colorado and in Arizona. I begin to realize that he isn't bright enough to have his own way among the bright men of Nevada. But Reade learns rapidly—-don't forget that!"
"Huh!" growled Gage. "The young cub seems to think that he has come out here to take charge of the Range. According to his idea he has only to pick out what he wanted here; and take it. He never seems to understand that gold belongs to the first man who finds it. I was on this Range long before Reade was out of school."
"And he doesn't object to your staying here," remarked Hazelton calmly.
"That's good of him, I'm sure," snapped Gage. "I've no objection to his staying here, either. Fact is, I'm going to encourage both of you to stay here."
"Encourage us?" grinned Harry.
"Well, then, I'm going to make you stay here, if you like that word any better."
"That will be more difficult," suggested Hazelton.
"First of all, we're going to tote your assay outfit over to our camp. You won't be able to do much without that. Look around a bit, Eb," added Dolph, turning to one of his companions. "Perhaps you'd better get the furnace out first. Two of you can carry it. I wish we had our other man back from Dugout. We need hands here."
"Can't you use some of my muscle in helping you to loot our camp?" suggested Hazelton, ironically. "I'm fairly strong, you know."
"Yes; I know you are. That's why we've tied you up," growledGage.
The man addressed as Eb had taken the other fellow aside, and they were now lifting the assay furnace in order to decide how heavy it was.
"It doesn't weigh much over a hundred and fifty pounds," called out Dolph Gage. "Two men like you can get it over to camp. And bring over our guns, too. It was a mistake to leave 'em over in camp."
Gage watched until the pair were out of sight among the trees.
"Hurry, you men!" Gage roared after them.
Then he started in to nose around the camp.
As he passed a clump of bushes there was a slight stir among them.Then Tom Reade leaped forth.
In a twinkling Dolph Gage had been caught up. He was in the grip of a strong, trained football player.
"Drop me!" ordered Gage, with a slight quiver in his voice.
"I'm going to," agreed Tom, hurling the fellow fully a dozen feet.
With an oath Gage leaped to his feet. Before he was fairly Tom Reade's fist caught him in the left eye, sending him to earth once more.
"Is that the way you fight, you young cub?" roared Gage hoarsely.
"I can fight harder if you want me to," Tom retorted, as the other again got to his feet. "Now, put your hands up, and I'll show you."
Tom went at it hammer and tongs. He was a splendidly built young athlete, and boxing was one of his strong points, though he rarely allowed himself to get into a fight. Indeed, his usually abounding good nature made all fighting disagreeable to him. Now, however, he drove in as though Dolph Gage were a punching-bag.
"Stand up, man, and fight as though you had some sand in you!" Tom ordered. "Get up steam, and defend yourself."
"I have had enough," Gage gasped. Indeed, his face looked as though he had.
"Are you a baby?" Reade demanded contemptuously. "Can't you fight with anything but your tongue!"
"You wait and I'll show you," snarled the badly battered man.
"What's the need of waiting?" Tom jeered, and swung in another blow that sent Gage to the ground.
"Eh! Josh!" bellowed Gage, with all the breath he had left."Hustle o-o-o-over here!"
"Let 'em come!" vaunted Reade. "You'll be done for long before they can get here."
"I'll have you killed when they get here with the guns!" criedGage hoarsely.
Tom continued to punish his opponent. Then Dolph, on regaining his feet, sought to run. Tom let him go a few steps, then bounded after him with the speed of the sprinter. Gage was caught by the shoulders, swung squarely around, and soundly pummelled.
"Let up! Let up!" begged Gage. "I'm beaten. I admit it."
"Beaten, perhaps, but not punished enough," retorted Tom. As Dolph would no longer stand up, Reade threw himself upon the fellow and pummelled him fearfully.
"This is no fair fight," protested Gage, now fairly sobbing in his pain and terror, for good-humored Reade seemed to him now to be the impersonation of destroying, fury.
"Fair fight?" echoed Reade. "Of course it isn't. This is a chastisement. You villain, you've done nothing but annoy us and shoot at us ever since we've met you. You've got to stop it after this; do you understand?"
"I'll stop it—-I'll stop it. Please stop yourself," begged Gage, now thoroughly cowed.
"I'll wager you'll stop," gritted Tom. "I've never hammered a man before as I've hammered you, and I'm not half through with you. By the time I am through with you you'll slink into a corner every time you see me coming near. You scoundrel, you bully!"
Tom's fists continued to descend. Dolph's tone changed from one of entreaty to one of dire threats. He would spend the rest of his life, he declared, in dogging Reade's tracks until he succeeded in killing the boy.
"That doesn't worry me any. You'll experience a change of heart—-see if you don't," Tom rejoined grimly, as he added to the pounding that the other was receiving.
Harry Hazelton had struggled to his feet, though he had been unableto free his hands from the cords that held them behind his back."You're not talking quite the way you did a few minutes ago, Gage,"Harry put in dryly.
"You'll see—-both of you young pups!" moaned the battered wretch. "Ask any one, and they'll tell you that Dolph Gage never overlooks a pounding such as I've had."
"And you got it from the boy that you were going to teach something," jeered Hazelton, "Gage, you know a little more about Tom Reade, now, don't your?"
Then Harry straightened up, as he caught sight of moving objects in the distance.
"Get through with him, Tom" advised the other young engineer."I see Eb and Josh coming on the run. They'll have the guns.We've got to look out for ourselves."
Tom flung the badly beaten man from him where he lay on the ground moaning over his hurts and vowing vengeance on Tom.
"Stand still, Harry, and I'll have you free in a jiffy," Tom proposed, hauling out his pocket knife.
"It won't do for us to stand still too long," urged Hazelton, as his chum began to slash at the cords. "The other scoundrels will kill us when they see what's been going on here."
"No, they won't," Tom promised calmly. "We'll take care of 'em both. You wait and see which one I take. Then you take the other. We'll handle 'em to the finish."
This seemed like foolhardy talk when it was considered that the other two men would return armed. But Harry had unlimited confidence in his friend, and so followed Tom, crouching, until they had hidden behind bushes along the trail.
"Where be you, Dolph?" called the voice of Eb, as the pair drew near.
"He's over there," spoke Reade, springing out of the bushes."You'll join him after a bit."
Neither Eb nor Josh was armed. Tom sailed into Eb, while Harry sprang at Josh. For a few minutes the trail was a scene of swift action, indeed. Shortly Eb and Josh tried to run away, as Gage had done, but each time the young engineers caught them and compelled them to renew the fight.
"My man's going to sleep, now, Harry!" Tom called, and drove in a knockout blow with his left.
Josh swiftly followed Eb to the ground.
"They'll keep quiet for a little while," declared Tom, after a look at each.
Dolph Gage had by this time painfully risen to his feet and came limping slowly down the trail.
"You might look after your friends, Gage," Tom called, pointing."They need attention."
"How did they come to be here?" gasped Dolph.
"They'll give you full particulars when they have time," Tom laughed.
"You boys won't feel quite so smart when our turn comes," snarledGage.
"Not a bit," Reade answered. "If you fellows have any sense you'll conclude that you've had about all the settlement that you can stand."
Gage didn't make any answer. Doubtless he concluded that it wouldn't be wise to talk back So he began working over Eb and Josh, until they showed signs of reviving.
"Did ye—-did ye kill 'em for us, Dolph?" gasped Josh, as he opened his eyes and beheld the face of his comrade.
"No," said Gage curtly.
"Why not?"
"Shut up!"
Not many minutes more had passed when Eb became conscious.
"You fellows can go over to your camp, any time you want," suggestedTom.
Slowly, painfully, the trio started.
"I feel almost ashamed of myself," Harry muttered.
"So do I," Tom agreed. "Yet what else was there for us to do!We've stood all the nonsense we can from that crowd. They'd havekilled us if we hadn't done something to bring them to their senses.Now, I believe they'll let us alone."
"They'll ambush us," predicted Hazelton
"Well, they won't have any guns to do it with," Tom grinned.
"Why, what became of their guns"
"I'm the only fellow on earth who knows," Tom laughed.
"Then you were at their camp?"
"Of course. My telling you to stone any prowler who visited this place was only a trap. I thought that he'd run off and get the rest of the crew. Knowing you to be alone and unarmed, and believing me to be far away prospecting, they didn't imagine that they'd need their rifles. As soon as they left their camp I dropped in and borrowed the rifles and all their ammunition."
"Where is the stuff now?"
"Come on and I'll show you."
"Hold on a minute," begged Harry, as Tom leaped up. "Do you miss anything?"
"What?"
"Our assay furnace. Eb and Josh carted it away."
"Then we'll go after that, first," Tom smiled. "Our friends are so sore that it would be hardly fair to ask them to return the furnace."
That missing article was found about halfway between the two camps. Tom and Harry picked it up, carrying it back to where it had been taken from. "Going after the guns, now?" Hazelton inquired.
"First of all," Tom suggested, "I think we had better start a roaring good campfire."
"What do we want such a thing as that for?" Harry protested."The day is warm enough."
"The fire will be just the thing," laughed Tom quietly. "Come on and gather the wood with me. Alf! Oh, you Alf Drew!"
But the cigarette fiend was not in evidence If he heard, he did not answer.
"We might as well pay that imitation boy for his time and let him go," muttered Harry.
"Oh, I hardly think so," dissented Reade. "It's worth some time and expense to see if we can't make something more nearly resembling a man out of him."
The fire was soon crackling merrily. Tom led the way to a thicket an eighth of a mile from camp. Here he produced from hiding three repeating rifles and several boxes of ammunition.
"We'll hold on to these," Hazelton said.
"For what reason?"
"They'll come in handy to steer off that other crowd."
"I wouldn't be bothered with keeping the rifles about camp," Tom retorted, as they started backward.
"But say! Gage's man that went to Dugout will soon be back.Do you forget that he carries a rifle?"
"Jim Ferrers will be back at about the same time," Tom rejoined. "They'll have rifles until the camp will look like an outdoor arsenal. We don't want these added rifles around camp. Besides, if we kept 'em we'd soon begin to feel like thieves with other folks' property."
"What are you going to do with these guns, then?"
"By tomorrow," Reade proposed, "I rather expect to put these guns out where Gage's crew can find them again."
"Well, you're full of faith in human nature, then!" gasped Harry.
"Wait and see what happens," begged Tom.
When they stepped back into camp Tom threw the magazine of one of the rifles open, extracting the cartridges. Then he stepped over and carefully deposited the rifle across the middle of the fire.
"I might have known!" cried Hazelton.
The other two rifles were soon disposed of in the same manner.
"Let the rifles cook in the fire for an hour," smiled Reade," and the barrels will be too crooked for a bullet ever to get through one again."
"What are you going to do with the cartridges, though?"
"Fire a midnight salute with them," Tom answered briefly. "Wait and you'll hear some noise."
Alf Drew cautiously approached camp when he felt the pangs of hunger. The cigarette fiend must have been satisfied, for Tom and Harry had already gotten the meal. But Reade, without a word of rebuke to their supposed helper, allowed young Drew to help himself to all he wanted in the way of hot food and coffee.
Bringing midnight two hours nearer—-that is to say, at ten o'clock, Tom and Harry, aided this time by Alf, built a large fire-pile in a gully at a safe distance from camp. The wood was saturated with oil, a powder flash laid, then Tom laid a fuse-train. Lighting the fuse, the three speedily decamped.
Presently they saw the flames of the newly kindled fire shooting up through the trees. Then the volleying began, for Tom had carefully deposited through the fire-pile all the captured cartridges.
For fully five minutes the cartridges continued to explode, in ragged volleys.
"It's a regular Fourth of July," Harry laughed, back in camp. "Tom, who's going to take the first trick of watch tonight?"
"Neither one of us," Reade replied. "We'll both get a sound sleep."
But the enemy?"
"It would take four mules apiece to drag them over here tonight," laughed Reade, as he rolled himself up in his blanket. "Good night!"
Barely were the young engineers astir the following morning whenAlf Drew came racing back with news.
"There's a whole slew of men coming, on horseback and on foot!"Alf reported. "And a whole train of wagons!"
"Good enough!" nodded Tom. "I hope the new folks camp right close to here. We need good neighbors more than anything else."
"But they may belong to Gage's crowd," Alf insisted.
"Don't you believe it, lad. Dolph Gage hasn't money enough to finance a crowd like that."
"It may be Dunlop's crowd," suggested Hazelton.
"That's more likely," said Tom. "Well we'll be glad enough to see Dunlop back here with a outfit. This part of the woods will soon be a town, at that rate."
"Come out where you can get a look a new crowd," urged Alf.
"If it's any one who wants to be neighborly," Reade answered with a shake of his head, "he's bound to stop in and say 'howdy.' We're going to get breakfast now."
"Then I'll be back soon, and tell you anything I can find out about the new folks," cried Alf, darting away.
But Tom raced after the lad, collaring him.
"Alf, listen to me. We're not paying you to come in on time to get your meals. You get over there by Jim's cooking outfit and be ready to take orders."
"Humph!" grunted young Drew, but he went as directed, for there was nothing else to do.
Five minutes later Mr. Dunlop turned his horse's head and rode down into the camp.
"Howdy, boys!" called the mine promoter.
"Glad to see you back, Mr. Dunlop," Tom nodded, while Harry smiled a welcome.
"I've sent my outfit around by the other trail," explained Mr.Dunlop. "I've brought back men enough to start work in earnest.There will be a mule train here by tomorrow with donkey enginesand machinery enough to start the work of mine-digging in earnest.Here, boy, take my horse and tie him."
As Alf led the animal away, Mr. Dunlop turned to the young engineers with a smile of great amiability.
"Boys, I'm glad to say that I wired the two railroad presidents you mentioned to me. Both wired back, in effect, that my mine was bound to be a success if I turned the engineering problem over to you. So I'm going to accept your offers—-hire you at your own figures. I want you to come over to the Bright Hope claim as soon as you've had breakfast."
Tom glanced at his chum, then answered, slowly:
"I'm sorry, Mr. Dunlop, sorry indeed, if——-"
"What are you trying to say?" demanded the mine promoter sharply.
"When you left here, Mr. Dunlop, we told you that we couldn't agree to hold our offer open."
"Oh, that's all right. I've come right back and taken up your terms with you," replied the promoter easily.
"But I'm sorry to say, sir, that you are too late."
"Too late? What are you talking about, Reade? You haven't entered the employ of any one else not in this wilderness."
"We've formed a partnership with Ferrers, sir," Reade gravely informed Mr. Dunlop, "and we're going into the mining business on our own account."
"Nonsense! Where's your claim?"
"Somewhere, sir, in this part of Nevada."
"You haven't found the claim yet, then?" asked the promoter, with a tinge of relief in his voice.
"No, sir. We located a promising claim, but the Gage gang tricked us out of it. We'll find another, though."
"Then you'll prove yourselves very talented young men," scoffed Mr. Dunlop. "Lad, don't you know that I've been all over this country with old-time prospectors? There isn't any claim left that will pay you for the trouble of locating and working it."
"We're going to hope for better luck than your words promise us, sir," Harry hinted.
"You'll have your labor for your pains, then, and the satisfaction of finding yourselves fools," exclaimed Dunlop testily. "You'd better drop all that nonsense, and report to me after breakfast."
"It's not to be thought of, Mr. Dunlop," Tom replied gravely. "We are here in the land of gold. We think we see our chance to work for ourselves for a while, and we're going to make the most of our chance."
"Then you're a pair of idiots," quivered indignant Dunlop.
"We'll be our own fools, then," smiled Harry.
"I beg your pardon for getting out of patience," spoke Mr. Dunlop, more gently. "I'm disappointed in you. All the way here I have been planning to get you both at work early. The stockholders in the Bright Hope are all looking for early results."
"Couldn't you get hold of an engineer at Dugout?" Tom inquired.
"Not one."
"Then you'll have to go farther—-Carson City," Reade suggested. "There must be plenty of mining engineers in Nevada, where their services are so much in demand."
"A lot of new claims are being filed these days," explained Mr. Dunlop. "The best I could learn in Dugout was that I'd have to wait until some other mine could spare its man."
"I'm sorry we can't help you, sir," Tom went on thoughtfully.
"I shall feel it a personal grievance, if you don't," snapped the mine promoter.
"We can't do anything for you, Mr. Dunlop," spoke Reade decisively."Just as soon as Ferrers returns, so that our camp can be takencare of, we three partners are going to hustle out on the prospect.Will you have breakfast with us, sir?"
Mr. Dunlop assented, but his mind was plainly on his disappointment all through the meal.
Even when Harry Hazelton related how Dolph Gage and his crew had been served, the mine promoter displayed but little enthusiasm.
"By the way, sir," suggested Tom, "you are not going to use all of your men today?"
"I cannot use any of them for a day or two."
"Then you might do us a great favor by sending a few of your men over here. I expect that Gage's absent comrade will return at any time. He will have his rifle, and one gun in the hands of a marksman, might be enough to make considerable trouble around here."
"You ask me a favor, and yet you won't work for me," complained their guest.
"I think we did you a favor, once upon a time, by helping to chase off the Gage crowd at a critical time for you," said Tom bluntly. "However, if you don't wish——-"
"I'll send half a dozen men over here until Ferrers returns," interjected Mr. Dunlop hastily.
The men reported to Tom and Harry within half an hour. A few minutes after their arrival Harry espied Dolph Gage's absent man galloping over to the Gage claim.
"There would have been trouble, if we hadn't shown a few armed men here," muttered Hazelton.
"There's some excitement in that camp, as it is," exclaimed Tom, who had a pair of binoculars at his eyes. "Gage, Eb and Josh are crowding around the new arrival. Take the glasses, Harry. Note how excited they are about something."
"Gage is stamping about and looking wild," Harry reported. "He looks as though, for two cents, he'd tear his hair out. And Eb has thrown his hat on the ground and is stamping on it. I wonder what the trouble can be?"
Two hours later Jim Ferrers rode into camp at the head of his new outfit. He had the two-mule team and wagon, and seven men, all miners and armed. Two of the men rode the ponies that Reade had instructed Jim to buy.
"Jim," called Tom, as he ran toward their mining party, "have you any idea what's wrong with the Gage crowd?"
"I've a small notion," grinned the guide. "The man who was sent over couldn't file their claim to the ridge."
"Couldn't file it! Why not?"
"Because every man in that crowd has exhausted his mineral land privileges taking up claims elsewhere."
"Why, then, man alive!" gasped Tom, halting, a look of wonder on his face, and then a grin of realization, "if they can't file the claim to that strip, why can't we!"
"We can, if we're quick enough," Ferrers answered. "I tried to file the claim while I was over in Dugout, but the clerk at the mining claim office said he 'lowed that we'd have to have our declaration tacked up on the ridge first of all."
"That'll take us a blessed short time," muttered Reade. "Harry and I have all the particulars we need for writing out the notice of claim. Get some breakfast on the jump, Jim, and we'll hustle over there."
"I had my breakfast before I rode in here," errors answered, his eyes shining. "I'd a-missed my guess, Mr. Reade, if you hadn't been ready for prompt action."
"Then there's no reason, Jim, under mining customs, why we shouldn't ride over there and stake out that claim?"
"Not a reason on earth, Mr. Reade, except that Gage will probably put up a big fight."
"Let him!" added Tom, in a lower voice. "Take it from me, Jim Ferrers, that claim on the ridge yonder is worth all kinds of fight. Here, get the horses saddled again, while Harry and I write our notice in record-breaking time for legible penmanship."
Tom's eyes were gleaming in a way that they had not done in months. For, despite his former apparent indifference to the trick Gage had played on them, Tom Reade would have staked his professional reputation on the richness of the ridge claim.
"It's gold, Harry—-gold!" he exclaimed, hoarsely, in his chum's ear. "It's gold enough to last us through life if we work it hard from the start."
"We'll have to kill a few men before we can get Gage off that ridge, though," Hazelton predicted.
"It's gold, I tell you, Harry. When the gold-craze gets into a fellow's blood nothing but gold can cure it. We won't kill any one, and we'll hope not to be killed ourselves. But that claim was our discovery, and now the way is clear for us to own that strip of Nevada dirt. Gold, Harry, old chum—-gold!"
Then they fell to writing. Harry did the pen work while Reade dictated rapidly.
If Engineer Tom Reade had been briefly excited he did not betray the fact when he stepped outside the tent.
"Horses saddled, Mr. Reade," announced Ferrers. "I s'pose you're going to take some of the boys over with us, in case Gage tries to put up any shooting bluff?"
"Yes," nodded Tom. "But don't take with us any fellow who is hot-blooded enough to do any real shooting."
"It'll take real shooting to get Gage's crew off that ridge," Ferrers warned the young engineer. "All men get gold crazy when they find their feet on a claim. Dolph Gage will fight while he has breath left. Don't try to go over there, sir, if you're not satisfied to have a little shooting done at need."
"We're going over," declared Tom, the lines about his mouth tightening, "and we're going to take the claim for our own, as long as we have the legal right to do so. But I hope there won't have to be any gun-powder burned. Killing belongs only to one line of business—-war!"
Dolph Gage, after his richly deserved battering of the day before, presented a sorry-looking sight as he stood near the notice of his claim location.
In his right hand he gripped the only rifle there now was in his outfit, the one brought back by the man who had been to Dugout.
Jim Ferrers, rifle resting across the front of his saddle, rode at the head of the Reade-Hazelton party as that outfit reached the edge of the claim.
On either side of the guide, just to the rear, rode Tom and Harry. Behind them tramped four men armed with rides, the other two men carrying a board, stakes and a hammer.
"The first man who sets foot on this claim dies!" shouted DolphGage hoarsely.
"Same thing for any man who raises a rifle against us," Ferrers called back. "Gage, I want only a good excuse for taking one honest shot at you!"
The moment was tense with danger. Heedless of the black looks of Dolph, Tom dug his heels into his pony's flanks, moving forward at a trot.
"Gage," called the young engineer, steadily, "I think you have been in wrong often enough. This time I am sure that you will want to keep on the right side."
"You keep on the right side by staying off the claim!" Gage ordered, but at that instant Reade rode over the boundary.
For an instant no man could guess who would fire the first shot.Gage was angry and desperate enough to fire and take great chances.Had he fired at that moment there was no doubt that he would havebeen killed at the next breath.
Something stuck in Gage's throat. He did not raise his rifle, but instead he growled:
"You're a fine lot, to bring a small army against one man!"
"We have as much right here, Gage, as you have, spoke Tom, steadily.
"What do you want here!"
"We have come to look this claim over."
"Get off, then. You have no right here."
"You know, quite well, Gage, that we have as much right here as you have," Tom rejoined easily. "We are quite well aware that your man failed to file the claim because all of you have exhausted your mineral rights under the law.
"So you think you can come here and take it from us, do you?" glaredGage, his face livid with passion.
"We have just the same right to this claim now that any man has who has any mineral rights left under the law," Reade made answer.
"But you haven't. I'm going to get this claim yet," Gage insisted."I've sent for a friend who hasn't taken up any mineral rights yet.He will file the claim. See here!"
Gage moved aside, displaying a new board, on which a notice had been written.
"That's signed with the name of the man the claim belongs to now," declared Gage, triumphantly.
Tom handed his bridle to Harry, then dismounted, bending over to scan the new notice. It was a duplicate of the former one, except that the new signature was that of one, Joseph Pringle.
"Where is Pringle?" Tom demanded.
"None of your business."
"But you see," explained the young engineer dryly, "it happens to be my business."
From under his coat Reade drew forth a folding camera. Quickly opening and focussing he held the camera close, pressing the bulb.
"That photograph will enlarge to almost any size," Tom declared. "Now, then, Gage, do you claim that this strip has been claimed by one, Pringle?"
"I do," scowled Gage, "and Pringle is our partner. We're going to work this claim with him, and you're trespassing."
"Is that Pringle's own signature?" Tom insisted.
"None of your business!"
"You've given me that same kind of an answer before," Tom smiled. "As it happens, this is our business. Gage, the writing of that notice looks exactly like your writing, and Pringle's alleged signature is in the same hand-writing. If you've signed Pringle's name—-and I charge that you have—-then that notice has no legal value whatever. Recollect, I have a photograph of the notice and signature, and that this notice in turn, so that you may remember that the writing throughout is the same that my photograph is going to reveal."
Jim Ferrers quickly came forward. Gage stepped squarely in front of the board holding the notice. But Tom took a swift step forward. Gage, shaking, drew back out of possible reach of Reade's fists.
Then, one after the other, the other members of Tom's party inspected the writing.
"Much good may it do you!" jeered Dolph Gage harshly. "You'll find that this claim is ours!"
"Look at what that cub is doing!" broke in Eb excitedly, pointing to Harry.
Unobserved at first by others, Hazelton had slipped back of the crowd. Now he was placing a board in position, and that board announced the fact that Jim Ferrers had staked out this strip for himself.
"Take that down!" raged Gage, as soon as he saw the new board and paper. "It won't do you any good."
"We'll take a chance on it, anyway, and watch it for a few days,"Jim declared. "Are you through with me now, Mr. Reade?"
"Certainly," nodded Tom.
Mounting his horse, Jim Ferrers rode away at an easy gait.
"This is a mean trick to try to play on us, Reade," snarled Gage.
"If you hadn't played a mean trick on us, and staked this place off while you knew we were making the assay of ore taken from here," rejoined Tom, "then we might be inclined to waive the purely legal side of the case and give you a fair chance to get your friend Pringle here. But you must remember that you tricked us out of this claim in the first place, and now you have no right at all to complain. This claim now stands in Jim Ferrers's name, and so it will continue to stand."
"Go ahead," snarled Gage. "Try to take ore out of here. No man shall be a partner in this claim and live to spend any of the money he gets out of this mine! I've said it, and I'll pledge myself to back it up."
"And you've made that threat before witnesses, also, Gage. Remember that," Tom advised sternly.
"And all the time you're chinning, Dolph," broke in Josh, "JimFerrers is riding hard for Dugout City to file the new claim entry!"
"If he is, something may happen to him on the way!" raged Dolph, wheeling about like a flash. His saddle horse, ready for action, stood tied to a tree near by. Gage leaped into his saddle after he had freed the horse.
"Boss, he's going after Ferrers, to do him harm on the road," hoarsely whispered one of Tom's new miners. "Are you going to let the scoundrel start?"
"Yes," nodded Tom coolly, "at Ferrers's special request. He didn't want Gage stopped from trying to overtake him."
Gage was now galloping away.
"You've seen the last of Ferrers," jeered Josh, after Gage had vanished in the distance.
"Perhaps we've seen the last of one of the men," replied Reade coldly.
"I've attended to the firm's business," exclaimed Jim Ferrers, wrathfully, on his return to camp. "I filed the papers at Dugout City, and the claim now stands in my name, though it belongs to the firm. And now, having attended to the firm's business, I'm going out to settle some of my own."
"What business is that!" Tom inquired over the supper table.
It was three days after the morning on which Ferrers had ridden away.
"That mongrel dog, Dolph Gage, took a shot at me this afternoon!" Ferrers exploded wrathfully. "I'd ought to have gotten him years ago. Now I'm going to drop all other business and find the fellow."
"What for?" Tom inquired innocently.
"What for?" echoed Jim, then added, ironically: "Why, I want to do the hyena a favor, of course."
"If you go out to look for him, you're not going armed, are you?"Reade pursued.
"Armed?" repeated Ferrers, with withering sarcasm. "Oh, no, of course not. I'm going to ride up to him with my hands high in the air and let him take a shot at me."
"Jim," drawled Tom, "I'm afraid there's blood in your eye—-and not your own blood, either."
"Didn't that fellow kill my brother in a brawl?" demanded Ferrers. "Hasn't he pot-shotted at me? And didn't he do it again this afternoon?"
"Why didn't the law take up Gage's case when your brother was killed?" Tom inquired.
"Well, you see, Mr. Reade," Ferrers admitted, "my brother had a hasty temper, and he drew first—-but Gage fired the killing shot."
"So that the law would say that Gage fired in self-defense, eh?"
"That's what a coroner's jury did say," Jim admitted angrily."But my brother was a young fellow, and hot-headed. Gage knewhe could provoke the boy into firing, and then, when the boy missed,Gage drilled him through the head."
"I don't want to say anything unkind, Jim," Reade went on, thoughtfully. "Please don't misunderstand me. But, as I understand the affair, if your brother hadn't been carrying a pistol he wouldn't have been killed?"
"Perhaps not," Ferrers grudgingly admitted.
"Then the killing came about through the bad practice of carrying a revolver?"
"Bad practice!" snorted Jim. "Well, if that's a bad practice more'n half the men in the state have the vice."
"Popular custom may not make a thing right," argued Reade.
"But what are you going to do when the men who have a grudge against you pack guns?" Jim queried, opening his eyes very wide.
"I've had a few enemies—-bad ones, too, some of them," Tom answered slowly. "Yet I've always refused to carry an implement of murder, even when I've been among rough enemies. And yet I'm alive. If I had carried a pistol ever since I came West I'm almost certain that I'd be dead by this time."
"But if you won't carry a gun, and let folks suspect you of being a white-flagger, then you get the reputation of being a coward," argued Ferrers.
"Then I suppose I've been voted a coward long ago," Reade nodded.
"No, by the Great Nugget, you're not a coward," retorted Ferrers. "No man who has seen you in a tough place will ever set you down for a coward."
"Yet I must be, if I don't tote a gun in a wild country," smiledReade.
"But to go back to the case of that good-for-nothing, Dolph Gage,"Jim Ferrers resumed. "You advise me to forget that he shot at me?"
"Oh, no, I don't," Tom retorted quietly. "But you don't have to go out and take your own revenge. There are laws in this state, aren't there?"
"Of course."
"And officers to execute the laws"
"To be sure."
"Then why not go back to Dugout City, there to lay information against Gage. That done, the sheriff's officers will have to do the hunting. Having nothing personal against the officers, Gage will very likely hold up his hands when the officers find him, and then go back with them as peaceable as a lamb. Jim, you want to be even with Gage for shooting your brother and for trying to finish you. Won't it give you more satisfaction to feel that you've put Gage day for his bread and water? I know that is the way I'd want to punish a man that I had cause to hate. At least, I believe it's the way; I don't really know, for I can't recall any man that I hate hard enough to wish him worse than out of my sight."
"Say, it would be kinder funny to go up to the state 'pen' some day, and see Dolph Gage walking lock-step with a lot of rascally Chinamen, drunken Indians, Knife-sticking foreigners and sassy bill-collectors, wouldn't it?" grinned Jim Ferrers.
"I'm glad your sense of humor is improving," smiled Tom Reade. "Now, tomorrow, morning, Jim, you take two of the other men, and our ponies, and ride into Dugout. If you run across Gage don't try to pick up any trouble. Of course, I don't mean to say that you shouldn't shoot in self-defense if you're attacked, but try, if possible, to keep out of any trouble with Gage. Just save him for the sheriff. It's the law's business to handle such fellows. Let the law have its own way."
"I'll do it," promised Ferrers. "Putting it the way you've done, Mr. Reade, it doesn't seem like such a baby trick to use the sheriff instead of killing the hyena, myself. Yes; I'll sure leave it to the law. If Dolph Gage gets caught and sent to the 'pen' I'll sure go there on some visiting day and see how he looks in his striped suit!"
Instead of being offended, it was plain that Ferrers was in high good humor. He went about camp whistling that night, and with a cheery word for everyone.
Camp had been moved over to the ridge, and the young engineers were ready to begin blasting operations the following morning. Ferrers was no longer concerned with cooking, he having engaged a man to do that work. The new man kept a sharp eye on Alf Drew, making that youngster do a really honest day's work every day in the week.
"I hate to take two men from you, Mr. Reade right at the start of operations," complained Jim, the next morning at breakfast. "I don't need two men, either, to protect me."
"I don't need the two men here, either, Jim for a few days. As for you, you don't know how many men you are going to need. All three of Gage's partners have vanished, and I'm sure that they're together somewhere out on the Range. They undoubtedly have rifles again, at that, and if you meet them, three men won't be any too many to stand off those four rascals."
Tom watched the trio of horsemen out of sight in the morning.
"If Jim doesn't lose his head that trip will mean that we shall see the last of Dolph Gage," mused the young engineer.
For once Tom Reade was in grave error, as subsequent events proved.
"It's ten minutes of seven," Harry reminded him.
"Get ready, men," Tom shouted to their few laborers, who were enjoying a few minutes leisure after breakfast.
At seven o'clock the young engineers and their handful of toilers moved over to the point in the outcropping vein of ore that Reade had selected for their first blast.
A small portable engine had already been fired, and all was ready for turning on the steam drill.
Twenty minutes later a satisfactory boring had been made.
"Bring up the dynamite," called Tom.
"Are you going to pack the charge?" Harry inquired.
"Yes," nodded Tom, and received the stick of dynamite from the miner who brought it.
While this was being made ready, Hazelton superintended the laying of the wires to the magneto battery. All was soon in readiness.
"The red flag is up," Tom shouted.
The dynamite had been rather loosely tamped home, for young Reade wanted to begin with light rending force and work up, through successive blasts, to just the proper amount of force.
"Get back, everybody!" Reade called, and there was a flying of feet. Tom was last to leave the spot. He ran over to where Harry stood at a safe distance.
"Pump her up, Harry," nodded the young chief engineer.
"You watch me, and see just how I run this magneto," Hazelton said to one of their men who stood near by. "This will be your job after we've fired a few charges. I want you to get the hang of the trick."
Harry worked the handle of the magneto up and down.
Bang! Over where the drilling had been done a mass of dirt and rock was shot up into the air.
"What are you running so fast for, Harry?" laughed Tom, as he pursued his chum back to the scene of the blast.
"I want to see if we stirred up any real ore. I want to know if our claim is worth the grub it takes to feed the men," was Hazelton's almost breathless response.
Arrived on the spot it took Tom only a moment to estimate that considerably less than a quarter of a ton of ore had been loosened from the rock bed by the blast.
"We'll drill six inches deeper next time, and put in fifty per cent. more dynamite," Reade decided.
The men brought up the drill and set it, after which the engineer was signaled.
Harry, in the meantime, was down on his hands and knees, curiously turning over the small, loose bits of rock.
"Stung, if this stuff proves anything," sighed Hazelton.
"You can't judge by one handful, Harry," Tom told him. "Besides, we may have to get down twenty, or even fifty feet below surface before we strike any pay-stuff. Don't look for dividends in the first hour. I've been told that gold-mining calls for more sporting blood than any other way in which wealth can be pursued."
"But I don't find a bit of color in this stuff," Harry muttered. "If we're on the top of a vein of gold it seems to me that we ought to find a small speck of yellow here and there."
A dozen blasts were made that morning. When the men knocked off at noon Harry Hazelton's face bore a very serious expression.
"Tom," he murmured to his partner, "I'm afraid we have a gold brick of a gold mine."
"It's an even chance," nodded Reade.
"And think of all the money—-out of our savings—-we've sunk in this thing."
"I hope you're not going to get scared as early as this," protested Tom. "Why, before we even get in sight of pay-rock we may have to sink every dollar of our savings."
"Then hadn't we better get out of it early, and go to work for some one who pays wages?" questioned Hazelton.
"Yes," Tom shot out, quickly, "if that's the way you feel about it."
"But do you feel differently, Tom?"
"I'm willing to risk something, for the sake of drawing what may possibly turn out to be the big prize in the mining lottery."
"But all our savings," cried Harry, aghast. "That seems like a foolish risk, doesn't it?"
"If you say so, I'll draw out now," Tom proposed.
"What do you think about it?"
"If all the money at stake were mine," Reade said slowly, "thenI'd hang on as long as I had a penny left to invest."
"Tom Reade, I believe you're turning gambler at heart!"
"I intend to be a good, game business man, if that's what you mean by gambling. But see here, Harry, I don't want to pull your money into this scheme if you feel that you'd rather hold on to what you have."
"If you're going to stay in, Tom, then so am I. I'm not the kind of fellow to go back on a chum's investment."
"But if we lose all we've saved then you'll feel——-"
"Don't argue any more, Tom," begged Hazelton. "I'm going to be game. You've voted, old fellow, to stay by this claim as long as you can, and that's enough for me."
"But if we lose all our savings," Tom urged. He had now become the cautious one.
"If we lose them, we lose them," declared Hazelton. "And we're both of us young enough to be able to save more before we're seventy-five or eighty years old. Go ahead, Tom. I'm one of the investors here, but the whole game is in your hands. Go as far as you like and I'll stand back of you."
"But——-"
"Say no more. Tom, I shall try never again to be a quitter. Whoop! Let the money slip! We'll make the old mine a dividend payer before we are through with it."
That afternoon about a dozen and a half more blasts were laid and fired. Some five hundred feet of the surface of the vein had been lightly blasted, and several tons of ore thrown up.
"I wouldn't call it ore, though," muttered Harry to himself. "I don't believe this rook holds gold enough to put a yellow plating on a cent."
"It does look rather poor, doesn't it, Harry?" Tom asked, trying to speak blithely.
"Humph! We've got to go deeper than this before we can expect to loosen rock worth thirty dollars to the ton," Harry declared cheerily.
"Oh, we'll surely strike pay-rock in big lots after a while," predicted Reade, smiling happily and whistling merrily as he strode away. "I'm glad Harry has his courage with him and his hopes high," Reade added to himself.
"I'm glad Tom is so cheerful and positive," thought Hazelton. "I'll do my best to help him keep in that frame of mind; though, for myself, I believe we would make more money if we stood on a cliff and tossed pennies into the ocean."
"I'm glad to see that all your high hopes have returned," declaredTom, at supper that evening.
"Oh, I've got the gold fever for fair," laughed Hazelton. "Tom, how are we going to spend the money when we get it?"
"A new house for the folks at home will take some of my money, whenI get it," Tom declared, his eyes glowing.
"Any old thing that the folks take a fancy to will catch my share of the gold," Harry promised.
"But, of course, we'll wait until we get it."
"You haven't any doubts about getting the gold, have you?"
"Not a doubt. Have you?"
"I'm an optimist," Harry asserted.
"What's your idea of an optimist, anyway?" laughed Tom.
"An optimist is a fellow who believes that banknotes grow on potato vines," laughed Harry.
"Oh, we'll get our gold all right," Reade predicted.
"We will, and a lot more. Tom, you and I still have mineral rights that we can file, with Ferrers as trustee."
"We'll go prospecting for two more bully claims just as soon as we begin to see pay-rock coming out of this vein," Tom planned. "Alf, you lazy cigarette fiend, hurry up and bring me some more of the canned meat."
"Bring me another cup of coffee on the jump," called Harry. "While you're about it make it two cups of coffee."
As soon as he had brought the required things Alf tried slyly to slip away by himself, for he had already had his own supper.
"Here, you son of the shiftless one, get back here and drag the grub to this table," yelled one of the men at the miners' table.
After that Alf remained on duty until all hands had been fed. Then he tried to slip away again, only to be roped by a lariat in the hands of the new cook.
"Let me catch you trying to sneak away from work again, and I'll cowhide you with this rope," growled the cook. "Why are you trying to sneak away before your work is finished?"
"I'm almost dead for a smoke," said Alf.
"Smoke, is it? You stay here and wash the dishes. Don't try to get away again until I tell you you can go. If you do—-but you won't," finished the cook grimly.
Alf worked away industriously. At last this outdoor kitchen work was finished.
"Now I can go, can't I?" spoke up Alf, hopefully. "Say, I'm perishing for want of a smoke."
"Stay and have a man's smoke with me," said the cook. "Here, hold this between your teeth."
Alf drew back, half-shuddering from the blackened clay pipe, filled with strong tobacco, which the cook passed him.
"You're always itching to be a man," mocked the cook. "And now's your chance. A pipe is a man's smoke. Them cigs are fit only for 'sheeters."
"I don't wanter smoke it," pleaded Alf, drawing back from the proffered pipe.