"In the first place," said Slavens, "your bluff don't go. Miss Gates has not broken any law in registering and entering this land under an _alias_. There's no crime in assuming a name, and no felony in acquiring property under it, unless fraud is used. She has defrauded nobody, and you could not make a case against her in a thousand years!" "I can get an indictment--that's a cinch!" declared Boyle. "Go ahead," said the doctor. "We've got some new blood in this country now, and we can find a jury that you don't own and control when it comes to trial." "And after the indictment comes arrest and jail," Boyle continued, overlooking the doctor's argument in the lofty security of his position. "It would make a lot of noisy talk, considering the family reputation and all that." "And the outcome of it might be--and I doubt even that--that Miss Gates would lose her homestead," Slavens supplied. "You don't know the Federal judge in this district," Boyle grinned. "Jail's what it means, and plenty of it, for the judge has to approve a bond, if you know what that means." "Why don't you pay Dr. Slavens for his homestead, as you were ready to pay that man Peterson if you could have filed him on it?" Agnes asked. "Because it's mine already," said Boyle. "This man stole the description of that land, as I have told you before, at the point of a gun." "Then you lied!" Slavens calmly charged. Boyle hitched his hip, throwing the handle of his pistol into sight. "You can say that," said he, "because I've got to have your name on a paper." "I'll never permit Dr. Slavens to sign away his valuable claim to you," declared Agnes. "I'll not allow----" Slavens lifted his hand for silence. "I'll do the talking for this family from now on," said he, smiling reassuringly as he held her eyes a moment with his own. He turned abruptly to Boyle. "And the fighting, too, when necessary. You keep that little gun in its place when you're around me, young man, or you'll get hurt! One more break like that to show me that you've got it, and you and I will mix. Just put that down in your book." "Oh, all right, pardner!" returned Boyle with that jerky insolence which men of his kind assume when they realize that they have been called, and called hard. He buttoned his coat. "And as far as Miss Gates is concerned, consider her out of this case," said Slavens. "But I want to have some private talk with you." They walked over to the place where Boyle's horse stood, and there, out of the hearing of Agnes, Slavens sounded Jerry sharply on his intentions. It was plain that there was no bluff in Boyle; he meant what he threatened, and he was small enough to carry it through. As an illustration of his far-reaching influence, Boyle pointed out to Slavens that nobody had approached the physician with an offer to buy him out, although one had appeared anxious enough to open negotiations the day he filed.