The newcomer stopped, no doubt trying to make out the meaning of what he indistinctly saw, and Joe, hearing two or three more running, did not get up. If the fellow attacked him, he would resist, but he wished to keep his captive out of action as long as possible. They waited, both expecting help, until Watkins and the third of Joe's party came upon the scene. Behind them appeared three others, and both parties paused. In the darkness it was difficult to discover what was going on. "Where's our boss?" the first of the strangers asked. "I can't say," Joe answered. "One of your crowd's in the gulch, and I've another here who'll sure get damaged if he don't keep still. I don't know which is which." Scaith's friends seemed disconcerted at the news. "What's to be done about it, Joe?" Watkins broke in. "Well," said Joe coolly, "I guess we'll give them a chance to quit." He addressed the opposite party. "You had better look for your partner, boys. There'll be no stakes pulled up to-night." "We can wipe you out!" was the answer. "We've got a gun!" "So've we," replied Watkins. "I've got something else that will fix you as quick. Get a hustle on; we've no use for jumpers!" Nobody stirred. Joe knew that he must confine himself to a defensive course; Scaith's was the stronger party, but they were apparently daunted by the loss of their leader. "You want to be reasonable," argued one. "What we're out for has nothing to do with you. This isn't your claim." "We're going to watch it," Joe said. "Run them off!" cried one of the others. "We've talked enough!" They seemed ready for a rush, and Watkins quickly struck a match in the shelter of his jacket. The next moment a slight hissing became audible and he held up something which emitted small red sparks. "I guess you know what this is," he remarked. "The fuse is pretty short and there's a stick of giant-powder at the end of it. You had better quit before I pitch it into the midst of you." He added sharply: "Get up, Joe!" They were startled by his cold-blooded daring, and though it may have been discharged by accident, a pistol flashed. Then, as Joe sprang to his feet, Watkins yelled in mockery and flung the dynamite cartridge into the air. A train of sparks marked its flight, but the others did not wait, and while Joe and his comrades ran off there was a flash and a detonation. It was followed by a shout some distance off and a sound of men running hard. Joe called his friends back. It was not Scaith's party he heard: the footsteps were too numerous. "What's the trouble?" somebody shouted. "Jumpers!" Joe answered, and turned to his companions. "It's the first of the boys up from the settlement." In a minute or two the newcomers arrived and Joe explained the matter. "We were making for your fire when we heard the shot and hastened on our fastest hustle," said one. "Now we'll go along and bounce the blamed jumpers out."