Sheriff Tom Powers, the Hogg brothers, and several men of the posse listened in silence until Allen had finished telling his plan. For a moment its sheer audacity held them silent, then they shook their heads. The thing was impossible. Sam Hogg glanced wonderingly at Allen's freckled, youthful face. He could discern nothing but the spirit of youthful adventure there, like that of a schoolboy planning to rob an orchard. He sighed and again shook his head. Courage such as Allen's was too precious to be wasted. There wasn't a chance in a thousand of success. "Yuh can't do it," the sheriff objected. "Hell, there's thirteen men in there," the little cattleman added. "A darned unlucky number for them," remarked Allen. "And five of the best gun fighters on the border," Toothpick pointed out. "I ain't aimin' to wipe out all them gents. I'm aimin' to sorta keep 'em busy, while you bust the door down," Allen explained. "You're loco! Bust that door down? It would take an hour to do it," Jim Hogg protested. "Yuh ever see a Roman batterin'-ram?" Allen asked. "Roman batterin'-ram?" the sheriff queried in return. "He's funnin' us," the storekeeper insisted. But one glance at the little outlaw's face convinced him Allen was serious. "Waggle yuhr ears, gents, and I'll learn yuh what erudition, as Toothpick calls it, does for an hombre." Allen grinned at the tall cow-puncher, then told them of his scheme to break in the door. "She sure works!" Sam Hogg cried, a few minutes later. He gave a whoop and sent his Stetson sailing into the air. Then all at once he grew silent and stared at Allen. A sinister thought had come to him. "I figure we'll get in, but they'll shoot yuh to bits," he said. "Not any. I'm so darn small I ain't easy to hit, an' I'll keep moving constantly," Allen said cheerfully. He stepped up to the ore wagon, which was just over the crest of the hill, and out of sight of those in the fortress. "Yuh take the box off, take that boom off the derrick by the mouth of the mine and rig her up, and yuh'll have a Roman batterin'-ram that'll bust that there door to splinters," he said. Sam Hogg dashed off to bring in some of his men. Tom Powers went to the roofless tool house to see what he could find. He returned a little later with a couple of rusty picks, a battered saw, and an ax that had seen better days. When the Frying Pan punchers arrived, they fell to work with a will. The box on the freight wagon was dumped off, and on the frame they lashed two cross bars. They had no nails, but plenty of rope which served the same purpose. After much cursing, sweating, and heaving, the arm of the derrick was pushed in between the crossbars. It then hung in such a way that it would swing back and forth. It was a little wabbly when finished, but, after an examination, both Tom Powers and Sam Hogg admitted it would serve its purpose.