Blackwell was a short man but heavy-set, with a curly black beard and eyes that were curiously heavy-lidded. As he leaned over the windlass and looked down upon us he reminded me of one of the fairy-tale ogres. "Hello, Bob," he said, speaking to Barrett, whom he knew. "Quit the banking business, have you?" "Taking a bit of a lay-off," Barrett returned easily. "We all have to get out and dig in the ground, sooner or later." Blackwell laughed good-naturedly. "You'll get enough of it up here before you've gone very far," he predicted. "Just the same, you might have come by the office and asked permission before you began to work off your digging fit on Lawrenceburg property." "We're not on Lawrenceburg," said Barrett cheerfully. "Oh, yes, you are," was the equally cheerful rejoinder. "Our ground runs pretty well up to the head of the gulch. I'm not trying to run you off, you know. If you feel like digging a well, it's all right: it amuses you, and it doesn't hurt us any." Barrett pulled himself up and sat on the edge of the hole. "Let's get this thing straight, Blackwell," he argued. "You've got three claims in this gulch, but we are not on any one of them. Look at your maps when you go back to the office." "I know the maps well enough. We cover everything up to the head of the gulch, just as I say, joining with the original Lawrenceburg locations on the other side of the spur." Then, suddenly: "Who's your friend?" Barrett introduced me briefly as Jim Bertrand, late of the Colorado Midland construction force. Blackwell nodded and looked toward the shack. "Any more of you?" he asked. "One more; a fellow named Gifford. He's asleep just now." Blackwell straightened up. "It's all right, as I say, Bob. If you three tenderfoots want to come up here and play at digging a hole, it's no skin off of us. When you get tired we'll buy the lumber in your shack and what dynamite you happen to have left, just to save your hauling it away." "Thanks," said Barrett; "we'll remember that. We haven't much money now, but we'll probably have more--or less--when we quit." "Less it is," chuckled the square-shouldered boss of the Lawrenceburg. "Go to it and work off your little mining fever. But if you should happen to find anything--which you won't, up here--just remember that I've given you legal notice, with your partner here as a witness, that you're on Lawrenceburg ground." Barrett's grin was a good match for Blackwell's chuckle. "We're going to sink fifty feet; that's about as far as our present capital will carry us. As to the ownership of the ground, we needn't quarrel about that at this stage of the game. You've given us notice; and you've also given us permission to amuse ourselves if we want to. We'll call it a stand-off." After the superintendent had gone I ventured to point out to my drill-mate that the matter of ownership had been left rather indefinite, after all.