"Ve-ry well, my dear," responded Bunker indulgently and took her under his arm. "I'm going ahead!" she burst out quickly as they came to the turn in the trail; and before he could stop her she slipped out of his embrace and went running to the entrance of the cut. But there she halted suddenly and when they came up they found her pale and trembling. "Oh, go back!" she gasped. "He's in there--he'll shoot you. I know something awful will happen!" "You'd better go back, now," suggested her father quietly, and then he turned to the barrier. "Don't start anything, Dave--we've come peaceable, this time; so come out and let's have a talk." There was a long, tense silence and then the muzzle of a gun stirred uneasily and revealed the hiding place of Dave. He was crouched behind the rocks which he had piled up across the cut where it entered the slope of the hill, and his long barrelled six-shooter was thrust out through a crack just wide enough to serve for a loop-hole. "Don't want to talk," he answered at last. "So go on, now; get off of my property." "Well, now listen," began Bunker shaking off Drusilla's grasp, "we acknowledge we made a slight mistake. We tried to run a whizzer and you called us good and plenty--all right then, now let's have a talk. If you can show title to this ground you're holding, we'll leave you in peaceful possession; and if you can't, you're just wasting your time and talents, because there's plenty more claims that ain't took. It's a cinch you can't hide in that hole forever, so you might as well have it out now." "Well what d'ye want?" snarled Chatwourth irritably. "By cripes, I'll kill the first man that comes a step nearer. I won't stand no monkey-business from nobody." "Oh, sure, sure," soothed Bunker, "we know you're the goods--nerviest gun-man, I believe, I ever saw. But here's the proposition, you ain't here for your health, you must figure on making a winning somehow. Well, if your title's good you've got a good mine, but if it ain't you're out of luck. Now I sold this claim for five hundred dollars to Mr. Russell, that you met a while ago; and we think it belongs to him yet. I gave him a clear title and he's done his work, so----" "Your title was no good!" contradicted Chatwourth from his rock pile, "you hadn't done your work for years. I've located this claim and the man don't live----" "That's all right!" spoke up Denver, "but I located it before you did. I didn't _buy_ this claim. I paid for a quit-claim and then relocated it myself--and my papers are on record in Moroni." "Who called you in on this?" burst out Chatwourth abusively, rising up with his gun poised to shoot. "Now you git, dam' your heart, and if you say another word----" "You don't dare to shoot me!" answered Denver in a passion, standing firm as the crowd surged back. "I'm unarmed, and you don't dare to shoot me!" "Here, here!" exclaimed Bunker grabbing hastily at Denver's arm but Denver struck him roughly aside.