Elliot bought an automatic revolver next morning and a box of cartridges. He was not looking for trouble, but he intended to be prepared for it when trouble came looking for him. With a rifle he was a fair shot, but he lacked experience with the revolver. In the afternoon he walked out of town and practiced shooting at tin cans for a half an hour. On his way back he met Peter Paget. The engineer came straight to the subject in his mind. "Selfridge came to see me last night. He told me about the trouble between you and Macdonald, Gordon. You must leave town till he cools down. Macdonald is a bad man with a gat." "Is he?" "You can drop down the river on business for a few weeks. After a while--" His friend looked at him coolly. "I can, but I'm not going to. Where do you get this stuff about me being a quitter, Pete?" Peter laid a hand on his shoulder. "Now, look here, Gordon. Don't be a kid and foolhardy. Duck. I'm your friend--" "You're his, too, aren't you?" "Yes, of course, but--" "All right. Tell him to duck. There'll be no trouble of my making. But if he starts any I'll be there. Macdonald doesn't own the earth, you know. I've been sent up here by Uncle Sam on business, and you can bet your last dollar I'll stay on the job till I'm through." "Of course you've got to finish your job. But it doesn't all have to be done right here. Just for a week or two--" "Tell your friend something else while you're on the subject. If I drop him, I go scot free because he is interfering with me in my duty. I'll put Selfridge on the stand to prove it. But if he should kill me, his last chance for getting the Macdonald claims patented would be gone. The public would raise such a howl that the Administration would have to throw your friend and the Guttenchilds overboard to save itself. I know that--and Macdonald knows it. So he stands to lose either way." Paget knew this was true. He knew, too, there was no use in arguing with this young athlete. That close-gripped jaw and salient chin did not belong to a slacker. Gordon would stick and see the thing out. But Peter could not drop the subject without one more appeal. "He's not sore at you about the claims. You know that. It's because you brought the squaw up the river to see Sheba." "I didn't bring her--hadn't a thing to do with that. I don't know who brought her, though I could give a good guess." A gleam of hope showed in the eye of the engineer. "You didn't bring her? Diane said you threatened--" "Maybe I did say I would. Anyhow, I thought better of it. But I'm glad some one had the sense to tell Miss O'Neill the truth." "Who do you think brought her?" "I'm not thinking on that subject out loud." "But if we could show Mac--" "That's up to you. I'll not lift a finger. Your king of Kusiak has to learn some time that everybody isn't going to sidestep him and pussyfoot when he's around. I didn't start this war and I'm not making any peace overtures."