"Then just consider that this is war," smiled the lawyer. "You will not have to stretch your imagination much. Good-by. I will be back in a week." The teamster climbed into the auto with him and in a few minutes the car was out of sight. Charley slowly returned to the camp, where he told his chums what the lawyer had said. "I think I know about where those gunmen are camped," Walter said. "I can see the smoke of a campfire near where the convicts camped. If we have any more trouble with them, we could, perhaps, capture them in the daytime when they are sleeping and turn them over to the sheriff." Charley shook his head. "That won't do," he said. "In the first place, even counting in the engineers, there would only be seven of us to do the job, for we could not count on the Spaniards. They lack the nerve for such work. Seven men could hardly handle twenty. In the second place, we have no evidence against any of them, except the one who killed the mules, and he is dead. If we turned them over to the sheriff he would have to turn them loose again." "You're right about the Spaniards lacking nerve," Captain Westfield observed. "All these mysterious night attacks are frightening them. I am afraid we are going to have trouble holding them if this sort of thing continues." "I've been fearing that very thing," Charley said thoughtfully. "They are a superstitious people and what they cannot understand frightens them. I can see only one thing more that we can do and that is for Walt and I to go on the night guard with them, and if there is any shooting we had better do as the lawyer says--shoot back." "I don't like the idea of bloodshed," said Captain Westfield. "Nor I," said Charley grimly. "But if blood must be shed I would rather it would be theirs than ours." "Same here," agreed Walter. "If we are going to keep watch to-night, Charley, we had better eat dinner and turn in for a nap." It was nearly sundown when the boys emerged from their tents where they had been awakened from their sleep by a clamoring outside. They found the din the herald of the arrival of Willie John with all his worldly goods, consisting of numerous dogs, pigs, cattle, two wagons, eight oxen, a squaw, his mother and his mother-in-law, a crowd of children, and a couple of wrinkled old Indians, likely his father and father-in-law. Much to the chums' relief, Willie John decided to make camp further on close to the machine. After they had reached their camping place, Willie John left the squaws to the ignoble menial work of making camp, and with his son, a fine looking Indian lad, came over to discuss business with his pale-face employers. "Me drive one wagon, four oxen," he said. "Boy drive one wagon, four oxen. How much?" "Six dollars a day," said Charley promptly. "Six dollars and plenty of tobacco." "It is well," said the Seminole. "Some tobacco now."