Dean laughed heartily, and the others joined him. The joke was on them, but they seemed to enjoy rather than resent it. "You were right about brain and muscle," observed Jim at last. Stranleigh ignored the compliment. "I've got a proposal to make to you men," he went on. "I'm off to Bleachers to do some telegraphing, trying to learn the whereabouts of Mr. Armstrong, who has not yet put in an appearance. The sale takes place day after to-morrow." [Illustration: "'Put down your hands and approach as a Christian should.'"] Stranleigh paused in his recital. He noticed a stealthy movement among the bunkers. He had observed that the first to sit up cast a longing glance at the rifles stacked in the corner, and it seemed to him that a simultaneous rush towards them was going to take place. "As you know, gentlemen," he went on, "I have an objection to shooting as a settlement of any legal question, but if shooting has to be done, I am quite prepared for it, and the inhabitants of Bleachers will regret provoking me to a fusilade." He took from his pocket the neat little automatic pistol. "I don't suppose," he went on, "that you ever saw anything exactly like this. It will simply rain bullets, and I can re-load before any of those Bleachers men can get his hand to his hip pocket. Next to the Maxim gun, it's the most deadly object in existence." Casually he cast his eye along the bunks. Each man had withdrawn the leg that had been quietly reaching for the floor. Stranleigh still fondled his weapon. "Just before you captured me, I had sent to New York for a considerable sum of money, which was to reach me by express. I thought it better to have no dealings with the bank, as I didn't wish Ricketts to learn what I was doing. I expect that sum of money is at this moment resting in the express office, and on the day of the sale I shall have more currency on my person than is perhaps quite safe to carry. I therefore wish to engage you as a bodyguard, if you agree to certain conditions. I shall expect you all in Bleachers day after to-morrow, and shall pay each of you fifty dollars for the day, and so that there may be no mistake, I tender you the money now. Do you agree?" "What are the conditions?" asked Jim, cautiously. "First, you will keep clear of the tavern, and not drink." "That's easy. What next?" "You will not shoot until I give the word of command, and until I have emptied my pistol." Jim consulted with his fellows, then turned to Stranleigh. "We agree," he said. "Right you are." Stranleigh rose, took from his pocket-book six fifty-dollar bills, and laid them on the table. "Look here," cried Dean, "we don't want any money for this job." "I'm quite sure of that, but six honest men are as much entitled to their pay as is a dishonest lawyer like Ricketts. So good-bye, until I see you at Bleachers day after to-morrow." Stranleigh went down to the house, mounted his horse, and rode away.