Not far from him a slender column of smoke arose from a box-like depression which lay beyond a high ridge and was well protected from his rifle. Peering cautiously over the rim of the butte, his head hidden in a tuft of grass, he critically examined the canyon, bowlder by bowlder, ridge by ridge. A puff of smoke spurted from a pile of rocks and a malignant whine passed over his head. Wriggling back, he hurried to another point fifty yards to his right, where he again crept to the edge and looked down. Another puff of smoke and a bloody furrow across his cheek told him that the marksman had good eyes and knew how to shoot. Johnny drove a Sharp's Special into the middle of the smoke and heard an angry curse follow it. "Hey, Nelson!" called a peeved voice from the rocks. "Nelson!" "What you belly-achin' about?" demanded Johnny insolently. "How'd you like to join us instead of fightin' us?" "Yo're loco!" retorted Johnny. "Can't you think of anything better'n that? I cut my eye-teeth long ago." "I mean it," said Quigley, earnestly. "Mean it all th' way through. We talked it over last night. It's poor business fightin' each other when we might be workin' together. Laugh if you want to; but lemme tell you it ain't as foolish as you think. It's a lazy, independent life; an' there's good money in it. You'd do better with us than you'd 'a' done alone." "I've shore fooled 'em!" chuckled Johnny softly. Aloud he said: "I can't trust you, not after what's happened." "I reckon you _are_ suspicious; an' nobody can blame you," replied Quigley. "But I mean it." "Why didn't you make this play when I was in my valley, pannin' gold an' gettin' a little herd together?" demanded Johnny. "_You_ knowed I wasn't after no gold; an' you knowed what I _was_ after. But no; you was hoggin' th' earth an' too cussed mean to give a man a chance, an' make another split in yore profits. You burned--oh, what's th' use? If you want my answer, stick yore head out an' I'll give it to you quick!" "I know we acted hasty," persisted Quigley; "but some of us was ag'in it. Three of 'em are dead now; Ackerman's missin'. We'll give you th' share of one of 'em in th' herd that we got now; an' an equal share of what we get from now on. That's fair; an' it more than makes up for yore cabin an' them six cows. As far as _they_ are concerned, we'll give you all of what they bring. How about it?" "Reckon it's too late," replied Johnny. "I ain't takin' nobody's share. I'm aimin' to take th' whole layout, lock, stock, an' barrel. Why should I give you fellers any share in it? What'll you give me if I let you all clear out now?" "What you mean?" demanded Quigley.