"I shouldn't try that if I were you, Mr. Ricketts. There are six friends of mine sitting beside me, who are dead shots, and I don't think this crowd would stand in the way if the first gun were levelled at you. I ask that the sale go peacefully on, Mr. Sheriff." "There must be a postponement! The Sheriff has control over this meeting!" "I am counting on that," said Stranleigh, "and I am sure that the Sheriff will adhere strictly to the law. How much money have you collected, Mr. Ricketts?" "That's none of your business." "Perhaps not; and so to make everything easy and agreeable to all concerned, I bid seventeen thousand dollars for the property." "Show your money," demanded Ricketts. "You wouldn't show yours, so why should I show mine?" "Knock it down to him, Sheriff. I don't believe he has the cash." "Seventeen thousand I am offered. Going at seventeen thousand once; going at seventeen thousand twice; going at seventeen thousand third and last time. Going! Gone!" Down came the mallet. "I shall be obliged if you will hand over to me seventeen thousand dollars, Mr. Stranleigh." "Certainly. With your permission, gentlemen!" and the crowd parted good-naturedly. Stranleigh counted out the money on the Sheriff's table. Armstrong and his men went home directly the sale was over, but Stranleigh remained until all the legal business was finished, and the documents were in his possession. As he rode back to the ranch, he meditated upon the situation in which he found himself. The object of his trip to the West had been achieved. He had left New York tired of its noise, its heated pavements and other uncomfortable disadvantages. He had thought he would never care to see the metropolis again, but now he was yearning for the atmosphere of a large city; London for choice. He determined to bid farewell at once to the Armstrongs and the bunk house men, then turn his face eastwards. Miss Armstrong was amazed to learn his decision. "But you haven't had even one day's shooting!" she protested. "Oh, I'll come for that another time," he assured her. "Before you go away, my father would like to make some arrangement with you about this ranch." "I shall be very glad to come to an agreement with him." The girl sped up to the silver mine, where her father was superintending the removal of the dynamite to its proper place, a job requiring some little care. Armstrong accompanied his daughter down to the house, and greeted Stranleigh with eagerness. "I am anxious to lease this place from you, Mr. Stranleigh, with the option of buying it later on. I am sure I can make money from the silver mine." "You must apply to the owner of the ranch, Mr. Armstrong." "The owner!" echoed Armstrong, in some alarm. "You haven't sold the ranch since I saw you, I hope?" "No; but like most other men, I am in debt, and I intend to use this property in payment of my obligation."