"That's tall talk, gentlemen," he said, "but it's wasted on us. This is our camp. We've discovered this ground. We came in here first, where no white men ever prospected before and where the Injuns are liable to raise our hair any moment; we've drawn our own regulations, and I reckon we're going to hold what we've got. No white men, or Injuns either, can tell us what we're to do. If you want peace you can have it; if you want a fight, you can have it; for here we are, and anybody that tries to jump a claim that we've got marked out will be making his last jump--you can bank on that. There's plenty ground left; don't you touch ours." For a minute things looked ugly, as the Gregory Gulch crowd growled indignantly, and the Tarryall squad waited, watchful and unafraid. Then the other man spoke. "Let's have dinner, boys. After that we'll prospect 'round and hold a little meeting, and see whether this camp is to be Tarryall or Grab-all. Tarryall is what we were invited to join, but if these fellows think we're in here to buy them out because we can't find anything else to do, they're mighty mistaken. It's a smooth scheme, but it won't work." "We can run 'em out, all right, if they don't play fair," boasted George, as he and Terry imitated the rest of the company and prepared dinner. "I don't know. There'd be a lot of men killed," reasoned Terry. "They were in here first, and we promised to respect their rights as locators." "We weren't told they'd staked out all the ground, though. They're allowed only a hundred feet at a time." "That's the Gregory Gulch rule, but this isn't Gregory Gulch; it's a different district," argued Terry, who felt that he'd rather prospect than fight. "Maybe we all can find thousand-feet claims." "Well, we can't find 'em in Tarryall," stormed George. "And Tarryall's the place we were brought to. I guess they expect us to buy. It's a put-up job." The meeting was held immediately after dinner. Hot speeches were made, and several resolutions were passed: one changing the name from Tarryall to "Grab-all," and another declaring that all claims should be one hundred feet. However, nobody seemed quite up to enforcing this new rule on the claims already staked. Amidst threats and bluster and glowering looks the Tarryall squad warily resumed their daily work, and gradually the Gregory Gulch crowd spread out, searching here and there for color, but taking care not to trespass. "No fight," decided George, as if disappointed. "It's going to be just a grab-all. Get your tools if you want your pound a day." "That's what we came for," reminded Terry, as they shouldered pick and spade apiece. "We won't wait for any fight. Come on; leave the stuff here." "Somebody'll steal your shot-gun." "Don't think so. I can't carry that, too! But I can put it in one of those Tarryall tents." "I'll wear my revolver. I don't leave that," pronounced George, wagging his head.