From his seat in the corner Denver listened apathetically as the miners argued and wrangled, and the longer they talked the more it became apparent that nothing was going to be done. The encounter with Dave had cooled their courage, and more and more the sentiment began to lean towards an appeal to the power of the law. But then it came out that the law was an instrument which might operate as a two-edged sword; for possession, and diligence in working the claim, are the two big points in mining law and just at that moment a legal decision would be all in favor of the jumpers. And if Murray was behind them, as all the circumstances seemed to indicate, he would hire the most expensive lawyers in the country and fight the case to a finish. No, if anything was to be done they must find out some other way, or they would be playing right into his hands. "I'll tell you," proposed Bunker as the talk swung back to action, "let's go back unarmed and talk to Dave again and find out what he thinks he's doing. He can't hold Denver's claim, and those claims of mine, because the work has just been done; and then, if we can talk him into vacating our ground, maybe these other jaspers will quit." "I'll go you!" said Denver rising up impatiently, "and if he won't vacate my claim I'll try some other means and see if we can't persuade him." "That's the talk!" quavered the old prospector, slapping him heartily on the back. "Lord love you, boy, if I was your age I'd be right up in front there, shooting. Why, up in the Bradshaws in Seventy-three----" "Never mind what you'd do if you had the nerve," broke in Bunker Hill sarcastically. "Just because you've got a claim that you'd like to get back is no reason for stirring up trouble. No, I'm willing to go ahead and do all the talking; but I want you to understand--this is _peaceable_." "Well, all right," agreed the miners and, laying aside their pistols, they started up the street for Denver's mine; but as Bunker led off a voice called from the porch and his wife came hurrying after him. Behind her followed Drusilla, reluctantly at first; but as her father kept on, despite the entreaties of her mother, she ran up and caught him by the sleeve. "No, don't go, father!" she cried appealingly and as Bunker replied with an evasive laugh she turned her anger upon Denver. "Why don't you get back your own mine?" she demanded, "instead of dragging my father into it?" "Never mind, now," protested Bunker, "we ain't going to have no trouble--we just want to have a friendly talk. This has nothing to do with Denver or his mine--all we want is a few words with Dave." "He'll shoot you!" she insisted. "Oh, I just know something will happen. Well, all right, then; I'm going along too!" "Why, sure," smiled Bunker, "always glad to have company--but you'd better stay back with your mother." "No, I'm going to stay right here," she answered stubbornly, giving Denver a hateful glance, "because I don't believe a word you say."