“I’m not afraid of anything in that direction,” replied Wycliff. “I am blessed with lots of good friends in Papyrus, and one of Zack Baldwin’s own gang gave away the whole plot to me. I have friends in Zack Baldwin’s own house. I have taken all the precautions I care to. I have sent away my wife and child, for the present, up into the country. Such of our household goods as are valuable merely for their associations--our pictures, my mounted cougar, everything which money could not replace--all these things I have taken to a neighbor’s. As for me, I don’t know as I should live a week if some one did not threaten to injure me.” And Wycliff laughed. “I came to town,” said Colonel Lathrop, “to see about your share in the Rattlesnake. I hope you haven’t sold it.” “No. When I lost my property I tried to sell it, but could not get an offer. I have felt that sometime it might become of value, perhaps through cheaper methods of mining.” “You know Walker Nichols, the mining expert?” “By reputation. Yes.” “He thinks that by the practice of new economies in mining, which will lessen our expenses considerably, we may be able to operate the Rattlesnake Mine at a small profit. Then there is always the possibility of striking a richer vein. Shall I go ahead? You will not need to advance anything.” “Certainly.” “You remember Mr. Baxter?” “Yes; ‘Old Sunshine,’ the boys used to call him.” “He has great faith that we shall strike something better if we open up the Rattlesnake again. His opinion ought to be worth something. He was a ‘forty-niner,’ has worked in the mines ever since, and has made and lost fortunes in them.” Colonel Lathrop withdrew, and John Wycliff returned to his work. Zechariah Baldwin, although temporarily thwarted in his plans to rid the town of Wycliff, was by no means inclined to give up his efforts. He had an abundance of resources and expedients, and when one failed he was not usually long in finding another. Wycliff’s family had been sent up to Sprucemont, where they were the guests of their old friends, the Porters. One night, soon after their departure, Wycliff, who had retired, was awakened by a lusty rap at the door. “Who’s there?” he shouted, throwing up his chamber window. “Not too loud, John,” came the answer from a suppressed voice. “That you, Dan? Wait a minute till I let you in.” “No; I can’t stop. There’s a big game on foot. Jehu Baldwin will fire a revolver through his Uncle David’s bedroom window. Then he will run in the middle of the street to your house, where he will take to the grass and throw the weapon upon your lawn.” “To-night?” “Yes; just after midnight. But I must get back.”