"Ah--er--well, I'll give you fifteen hundred," conceded the Colonel drawing out his check-book and pen. "That's the best I can possibly do." "Well save your check then, because I'm a long ways from broke. What d'ye think of that for a roll?" Denver drew out his roll of prize money, with a hundred dollar bill on top, and flickered the edges of the twenties. "I guess I can wait a while," he grinned. "Come around again, when I'm broke." "I'll give you a thousand dollars down and nine thousand in six months," burst out the Colonel with sudden vehemence. "Now it's that or absolutely nothing. If you try to hold me up I'll abandon my option and withdraw entirely from the district." "Sorry to lose you, old-timer," returned Denver genially, "but I guess we can't do business. Come around in about a month." A sudden flash came into the Colonel's bold eyes and he opened his mouth to speak--then he paused and shut his mouth tight. "Not on your life, Mr. Russell," he said with finality, "if I go I will not come back. Now give me your lowest cash price for the property. Will you accept ten thousand dollars?" "No, I won't," answered Denver, "nor a hundred thousand, either. I'm a miner--I know what I've got." "Very well, Mr. Russell," replied Colonel Dodge crisply and, bowing haughtily, he withdrew. Denver looked after him laughing, but something about his stride suddenly wiped away the grin from Denver's face--the Colonel was going somewhere. He was going with a purpose, and he walked like a man who was perfectly sure of his next move--like a man who has seen a snake in the road and turns back to cut a club. It was distinctly threatening and a light dawned on Denver when the automobile turned off towards Murray's camp. That was it, he was an agent of Murray. Denver sharpened up his steel and put in a round of holes but all that day and the next his uneasiness grew until he jumped at every sound. He felt the hostility of Colonel Dodge's silence more than any that words could express; and when, on the second day, he saw Professor Diffenderfer approaching he stopped his work to watch him. "Vell, how are you?" began the Professor, trying to warm up their ancient friendship; and then, seeing that Denver merely bristled the more, he cast off his cloak of well-wishing. "I vas yoost over to Murray's camp," he burst out vindictively, "and Dave said he vanted his gun." "Tell 'im to come over and get it," suggested Denver and then he unbuckled his belt. "All right," he said handing over the gun and cartridges, "here it is; I don't need it, anyhow." The Professor blinked and looked again, then reached out and took the belt doubtfully. "Vot you mean?" he asked at last as his curiosity got the better of him, "have you got anudder gun somevhere? Dot Dave, he svears he vill kill you." "That's all right," replied Denver, "just give him his gun--I'll take him on any day, with rocks."