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Lord Stranleigh Abroad

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Šrift:Väiksem АаSuurem Aa

The girl had risen to her feet.

“And your baggage?” she asked.

“I suppose it is in the hands of the brigands by this time. I left it scattered along the trail.”

“But, Mr. Stranleigh, what you say is incredible. There are no brigands, thieves or road agents in this district.”

“The wound that you dressed so skilfully is my witness, and a witness whose testimony cannot be impugned on cross-examination.”

“There is a mistake somewhere. Why, just think of it; the most energetic bandit would starve in this locality! There is no traffic. If your belongings were scattered along the trail, they are there yet.”

“Then why shoot the belonger of those belongings?”

“That’s just what I must discover. Excuse me for a moment.”

“Jim,” she said, “did you hear any shooting out by the Bleachers trail about an hour ago?”

“No, Ma’am; I can’t say that I did, except a rifle I shot off.”

“That you shot off! What were you shooting at?”

“Well,” said Jim, with a humorous chuckle, “I guess perhaps it was this gentleman.”

“Why did you wish to murder me?” asked Stranleigh, with pardonable concern.

“Murder you, sir? Why, I didn’t try to murder you. I could have winged you a dozen times while you were riding down to the house, if I’d wanted to. Where were you hit?”

“In the left shoulder.”

“Then that’s all right. That’s what I aimed to do. I just set out to nip you, and scare you back where you came from.”

“But why?” insisted the perplexed Stranleigh.

“You came along with a posse behind you, and I thought you were the sheriff, but I wouldn’t kill even a sheriff unless I had to. I’m the peaceablest man on earth, as Miss Armstrong there will tell you.”

“If that’s your idea of peace,” said Stranleigh, puzzled, “I hope next time I’ll fall among warlike people.”

Jim grinned. It was Miss Armstrong who spoke, and, it seemed to Stranleigh, with unexpected mildness, considering she knew so much of the Eastern States and Europe.

“I understand,” she said, “but next time, Jim, it will be as well merely to fire the gun, without hitting anybody.”

“Oh,” explained Jim, in an off-hand manner, “our folk don’t pay any attention to the like of that. You’ve got to show them you mean business. If this gentleman had come on, the next shot would have hit him where it would hurt, but seeing he was peaceable minded, he was safe as in a church.”

“Is the baggage where he left it?”

“Certainly, Ma’am; do you wish it brought here?”

“Yes; I do.”

“All right, Ma’am; I’ll see to that. It’s all a little mistake, sir,” he said amiably, as he turned to Stranleigh. “Accidents will happen in the best regulated family, as the saying goes,” and with a flourish of the hat he departed.

Miss Armstrong rose as if to leave the verandah. As she did so Stranleigh said in a tone of mild reproach:

“I confess I am puzzled.”

“So am I,” replied the girl, brightly. “I’m puzzled to know what I can offer you in the way of books. Our stock is rather limited.”

“I don’t want to read, Miss Armstrong, but I do want to know why there is such a prejudice here against a sheriff. In the land I came from a sheriff is not only regarded with great respect, but even with veneration. He rides about in a gilded coach, and wears magnificent robes, decorated with gold lace. I believe that he develops ultimately into a Lord Mayor, just as a grub, if one may call so glorious a personage as a sheriff a grub, ultimately becomes a butterfly. We’d never think of shooting a sheriff. Why, then, do you pot at sheriffs, and hit innocent people, out here?”

The girl laughed.

“I saw the Lord Mayor of London once in his carriage, and behind it were two most magnificent persons. Were they sheriffs?”

“Oh, dear no; they were merely flunkeys.”

Our sheriffs are elected persons, drawn from the politician class, and if you know America, you will understand what that means. Among the various duties of a sheriff is that of seizing property and selling it, if the owner of that property hasn’t paid his debts.”

“They act as bailiffs, then?”

“Very likely; I am not acquainted with legal procedure. But I must go, Mr. Stranleigh, for whatever the position of a sheriff may be, mine is that of assistant to my mother, who is just now preparing the dinner, a meal that, further East, is called lunch. And now, what would you prefer to read? The latest magazine or a pharmaceutical journal?”

“Thank you, Miss Armstrong; I prefer gazing at the scenery to either of them.”

“Then good-bye until dinner time,” whereupon she disappeared into the house.

The meal proved unexpectedly good. There was about it an enticing freshness, and a variety that was surprising when the distance from the house to the nearest market was considered. Stranleigh could not remember any repast he had enjoyed so much, although he suspected that horseback exercise in the keen air had helped his appreciation of it. When he mentioned his gratification at so satisfactory a menu, the girl smiled.

“Plain living and lofty thought is our motto on the ranch,” she said.

“This is anything but plain living,” he replied, “and I consider myself no mean judge in such matters. How far away is your market town?”

“Oh, a market is merely one of those effete contrivances of civilisation. What you buy in a market has been handled and re-handled, and artificially made to look what it is not. The basis of our provender is the farm. All round us here is what economists call, in a double sense of the term, raw material. Farm house fare is often what it should not be because art belongs to the city while nature belongs to the farm. To produce a good result, the two must be united. We were speaking just now of Thun. If, leaving that town, you proceed along the left hand road by the lake, you will arrive at a large institution which is devoted entirely to the art of cookery. The more I progressed with my studies at Lausanne, the more I realised that the basis of health is good food, properly prepared. So I interrupted my medical studies for a time, entered that establishment, and learned to cook.”

“Miss Armstrong, you are the most efficient individual I ever met.”

“You are very complimentary, Mr. Stranleigh, because, like the various meals you have enjoyed in different parts of the world, you must have met a great many people. To enhance myself further in your eyes, I may add that I have brought another much-needed accomplishment to the farm. I am an expert accountant, and can manage business affairs in a way that would startle you, and regarding this statement of mine, I should like to ask you, hoping you won’t think I am impertinent, are you a rich man?”

Stranleigh was indeed startled – she had succeeded in that – and he hesitated before he answered —

“I am considered reasonably well off.”

“I am very glad to hear it, for it has been the custom of my father, who is not a good business man, to charge boarders two or three dollars a week when they come with their guns and fishing tackle. Now, we are in a unique position. We have the advantage of being free from competition. The hotels of New York are as thick as blackberries. They meet competition in its fiercest form, yet the prices they charge are much more per day than we charge for a month. I am determined that our prices shall be equal to New York prices, but I think it is only fair to let any customer know the fact before he is called upon to pay his bill.”

“A very excellent arrangement,” said Stranleigh, heartily, “and in my case there will be an additional account for medical services. Will that be on the basis of professional charges in London, New York, Vienna, Berlin, or Lausanne?”

“Not on the basis of Lausanne, certainly, for there an excellent doctor is contented with a fee of five francs, so if you don’t object, I’ll convert francs into dollars.”

“My admiration for your business capacity is waning, Miss Armstrong. If this is to be an international matter, why choose your own country instead of mine? Transpose your francs into pounds, Professor. There are five francs in a dollar, but five dollars in a pound sterling. Let me recommend to you my own currency.”

“A very good idea, Mr. Stranleigh,” rejoined Miss Armstrong, promptly. “I shall at once take it into consideration, but I hope you won’t be shocked when the final round-up arrives.”

“I shall have no excuse for astonishment, being so honestly forewarned, and now that we are conversing so internationally, I’d like to carry it a little further. In Italy they call an accident a ‘disgrazia,’ and when you read in an Italian paper that a man is ‘disgraced,’ you realise that he has met with an accident. Then the account ends by saying that the patient is guaranteed curable in two days, or a week, or a month, as the case may be. How long, then, doctor, must I rest under this ‘disgrace’?”

“I should say a week, but that’s merely an off-hand guess, as I suppose is the case with the estimate of an Italian physician.”

“I hope your orders won’t be too strict. By the way, has my luggage arrived?”

“It is all in the large room upstairs, but if you have any designs upon it, you are disobeying orders.”

“I must get at a portmanteau that is in one of the bundles.”

“I will fetch what you want, so don’t worry about that, but come and sit on the verandah once more.”

Stranleigh protested, and finally a compromise was arrived at. Miss Armstrong would whistle for Jim, and he would do the unpacking. She saw a shade of distrust pass over Stranleigh’s face, and she reassured him that Jim was the most honest and harmless man in the world, except, perhaps, where sheriffs were concerned.

“Now,” she continued, when he had seated himself, “you have talked enough for one day, so you must keep quiet for the rest of the afternoon. I will do the talking, giving you an explanation of our brigandish conduct.”

 

“I shall be an interested listener,” said Stranleigh, resignedly. “But permit me, before silence falls, to ask what you may regard an impertinent question. Do you smoke?”

“Goodness, no!” she replied, with widely opened eyes.

“Many ladies do, you know, and I thought you might have acquired the habit during your travels abroad. In that case, I should have been delighted to offer you some excellent cigarettes from my portmanteau.”

Jumping up, the girl laughed brightly.

“Poor man! I understand at last. You shall have the cigarettes in less than five minutes. Give me your keys, please.”

“That particular piece of luggage is not locked. I am so sorry to trouble you, but after such a memorable dinner – ”

“Yes, yes; I know, I know!” she cried, as she vanished.

“Interesting girl, that,” murmured Stranleigh to himself, “and unusually accomplished.”

He listened for a whistle, but the first break in the silence was the coming of Miss Armstrong, holding a box of cigars in one hand and a packet of cigarettes in the other.

“Then you didn’t call for help, after all,” said Stranleigh, a shade of reproach in his tone.

“Oh, it was quite easy. By punching the bundles I guessed what they contained, and soon found where the portmanteau was concealed. Now, light up,” she continued, “lean back, and smoke. I’ll do the talking. My father, as I’ve told you, is a very poor business man, and that is why I endeavoured to acquire some knowledge of affairs. He is generous and sympathetic, believing no evil of anyone, consequently he is often imposed upon to his financial disadvantage. Our position as father and daughter is the reverse of what is usual in such relationships. I attempt to guide him in the way he should go, and as a general thing he accepts my advice and acts upon it, but on the occasion of which I speak, I was at work in New York, and knew nothing of the disastrous contract into which he had entered, until it was too late.

“I always come West and spend the vacation on the ranch, and this time brought with me all the money I had saved, but it proved insufficient to cope with the situation. In his early days my father was a mining engineer. He was successful, and might have been a very rich man to-day if – But that ‘if’ always intervened. Nevertheless, he accumulated money, and bought this ranch, determined to retire.

“The lower part of the ranch is good grazing ground, but the upper or western part is rocky, rising to the foothills. My father was not a success as a rancher, partly because we are too far from the markets, and partly because he chose as cowboys men who did not understand their business. I told you that my father is a sympathetic man. No one ever appealed to him in vain. He has always been very popular, but it seems to me that his friends are always poorer than himself. Thus it came about that miners who knew him, and were out of work, applied for something to do, and he engaged them as cowboys, until he had half a dozen on his pay roll, and thus began the gradual loss of his money. These men were excellent as miners, but useless as cowboys, and there was no one here to teach them their duties, my father being himself a miner. It seemed, then, a dispensation of Providence that as he rambled over the western part of his property he struck signs of silver. He was not mistaken in his prospecting. He and the cowboys took hilariously to their old trade, and worked away at the rocks until all his money was gone.”

“Did they find any real silver?” asked Stranleigh, interested.

“Oh yes, plenty of it,” answered the girl. “It is evident they have opened a very rich mine.”

“Then where is the difficulty?”

“The difficulty is the want of machinery, which there is no capital to purchase. My father tried to get that capital in this district, but there is very little ready money to be obtained out here. He enlisted the interest of Mr. Ricketts, a lawyer in Bleachers, and reputed the only rich man in the town. Ricketts came to the ranch with a mining engineer, and they examined the opening. Seemingly they were not impressed with the contents, and Ricketts advised my father to go East and form a company.

“My father explained his financial situation, and Ricketts, with apparent generosity, offered to lend him five thousand dollars on his note, to be paid on demand, with the ranch as security. Thus my father put himself entirely in the other’s power. Ricketts gave him the address of a lawyer in Chicago, who, he said, would be of assistance to him. The latest word we received from my father is that this lawyer, in one way or another, has got hold of all his money. Father telegraphed to Ricketts for help, which was refused. So he left Chicago on foot, determined to walk home, since he had not even money enough left to pay his fare home. Where he is at present, we have no idea, except that he is making for this ranch.

“Ricketts at once took action to sell the ranch. Apparently he is quite within his legal rights, but there are formalities to be gone through, and one of these is the arrival of the sheriff to seize the property. That arrival the men, headed by Jim, are determined to prevent, and now, perhaps, you understand why you rode into danger when you came from Bleachers this morning.

“When I learnt of my father’s predicament, I went out to Bleachers to see Mr. Ricketts, offering him what money I had brought from New York if he would hold his hand for a year. He refused, and from his conversation I realised he was determined to secure the ranch for himself, and I believe the whole transaction is a plot toward that end.”

“Then the mine must be a valuable one?”

“I am sure it is; indeed, my father could make no mistake in that matter.”

“Well, the position seems very simple after all. What you need, Miss Armstrong, is a change of creditors. You want a creditor who is not in a hurry for his money. In other words, if you could transfer that debt, you would be out of immediate danger. Would you allow me to go into Bleachers to-morrow, and see Mr. Ricketts?”

“Most decidedly not!”

“How much money did you bring with you from New York?”

“Two thousand dollars.”

“I brought just twice that amount, so I think the affair may be arranged, and you can go to Ricketts to-morrow, and take up the note. I think perhaps you had better have five thousand five hundred dollars with you, as there will certainly be some interest and expenses to pay, for if the case is as you state it, Ricketts will be reluctant to part with the document. Is there another lawyer in Bleachers?”

“Yes.”

“Well, get him to accompany you, and make formal tender of the money.”

The girl had reddened while he was speaking, and now she said, in tones of distress —

“I fear you completely misunderstood my object in telling you of my difficulties. My object was not to borrow money, but to explain why Jim Dean shot at you.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly why you spoke as frankly as you did, and I am very much obliged to you for doing so, but you must have no diffidence in accepting the money. It is purely a business transaction, and, as you say, you are a business woman. Therefore, as a matter of business, it would be folly to reject an offer that is to our mutual advantage. The security is ample.”

“That is true, Mr. Stranleigh, but, you see, I have no power, no authority, to give this ranch as security; it belongs to my father.”

“True; but you are not nearly so competent a business woman as you would have me believe. You will receive from Ricketts your father’s promissory note. That you will hand to me, then I shall be your debtor for two thousand dollars. Those two thousand dollars I shall pay as soon as I get some money from New York, and your father will become my debtor for five thousand dollars. All perfectly simple, you see. In the first instance I trust you for three thousand dollars, and in the second instance you trust me for two thousand dollars. After I have paid you the two thousand dollars, I hold the note, and can sell you up whenever I please. I give you my word I won’t do that, though even if I did you would be no worse off than you are now.”

“Very well, Mr. Stranleigh; I will take the money.”

It was several days later when Miss Armstrong returned from Bleachers. Her first interest was to satisfy herself of the patient’s progress. He had been getting on well.

“You are an admirable physician, Miss Armstrong,” he said. “Now let me know whether you are equally capable as a financier.”

“I have failed completely,” she answered, dejectedly. “Mr. Ricketts has refused the money.”

“Did you take the other lawyer with you?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“He said Ricketts had no right to refuse, but a different question has arisen. The guide who accompanied you to the ranch brought back news of the shooting. Ricketts guessed at once why you were shot at, and the sheriff has signed an affidavit, or some such instrument, to show that his life, and his men’s lives, are in danger if they go to seize the property, so this complication has been overcome by some order from the legislature, and the personal seizure is waived. The sale is announced to take place in Bleachers two weeks from to-day. Mr. Timmins – that is the other lawyer – fears that Ricketts is within his rights in refusing the money at this stage.”

“This is all very interesting, Miss Armstrong, but we have a fortnight to turn round in.”

“Yes; that is so.”

“I am delighted, for now I shall have the pleasure of trying a fall with the estimable Mr. Ricketts.”

VI. – THE BUNK HOUSE PRISONER

As the wound in his shoulder healed, Stranleigh began to enjoy himself on the ranch. He was experiencing a life entirely new to him, and being always a lover of waving woods and rushing waters, even in the tamed state which England presents, he keenly appreciated these natural beauties in the wilderness, where so-called human improvements had not interfered with them. Without attempting to indulge in the sport for which he had come, he wandered about the ranch a good deal, studying its features, and at the same time developing an appetite that did justice to the excellent meals prepared for him. He visited Jim Dean, who had shot him, and tried to scrape acquaintance with his five aiders and abettors in that drastic act, but they met his advances with suspicion, naturally regarding him as a tenderfoot, nor were they satisfied that his long residence among them was as friendly as he evidently wished it to appear.

The men resided in a huge bunk house, which consisted of one room only, with a shack outside where the cooking was done. In the large room were a dozen bunks; half of them in a very dishevelled state, giving sleeping accommodation for the company, while the other half were ready in case of an accession of help, should the mine prosper.

The cabin was as securely built as a fortress, of the rugged stone which had been blasted from the rocks in opening the mine. The mine itself was situated about five hundred yards to the south of this edifice, but instead of being dug downwards, as Stranleigh expected, it extended westward on the level toward the heart of the mountain, so that a rudely built truck could carry out the débris, and dump it down the steep hill. To his æsthetic fancy this seemed a pity, because a short distance south from the opening of the mine, the river formed a cascade descending a hundred feet or more; a cascade of entrancing beauty, whose loveliness would be more or less destroyed as the mining operations progressed.

The rising sun illumined the tunnel to its final wall, and Stranleigh found no difficulty in exploring it to the remotest corner. He passed the abandoned truck partly turned over beside an assortment of picks, shovels, hand-drills and the like. To his unpractised eye there was no sign of silver on walls, floor or ceiling. At the extreme end was piled up a quantity of what appeared to be huge cartridges.

Before entering the cavern he had noticed three or four of the miners standing in front of the bunk house, evidently watching him, but he paid no attention to them, and while he was inside, the roar of the cataract prevented him from hearing approaching footsteps. As he came out to the lip of the mine, he found Jim and three others waiting for him. Each had a rifle on his shoulder.

“Inspecting the property?” said Jim, casually.

“Yes,” replied Stranleigh.

 

“What do you think of it?”

“My opinion would be of very little value. I know nothing of mining.”

“The deuce you don’t!” said Jim. “What are you doing with that lump of rock in your hand?”

“Oh, that,” said Stranleigh, “I happened to pick up. I wanted to examine it in clear daylight. Is there silver in it?”

“How should I know?” replied Jim, gruffly. “I’m not a mining engineer. I only take a hand at the drill or the pick, as the case may be. But when you throw that back where you got it, throw it carefully, and not too far.”

“I don’t intend to throw it,” said Stranleigh. “I’m going to take it down to the house.”

“Oh, you think you’re not going to throw it, but you are. We’ve just come up to explain that to you.”

“I see. If it is compulsory, why shouldn’t I throw it as far as I can?”

“Because,” explained Jim, politely, “there’s a lot of dynamite stored in the end of that hole, and dynamite isn’t a thing to fool with, you know.”

Stranleigh laughed.

“I rather fancy you’re right, though I know as little about dynamite as I do about mines. But to be sure of being on the right side, I will leave the tossing of the stone to you. Here it is,” whereupon he handed the lump of rock to Jim, who flung it carelessly into the mine again, but did not join in his visitor’s hilarity.

“You seem to regard me as a dangerous person?”

“Oh, not at all, but we do love a man that attends to his own business. We understood that you came here for shooting and fishing.”

“So I did, but other people were out shooting before I got a chance. A man who’s had a bullet through his shoulder neither hunts nor fishes.”

“That’s so,” admitted Jim, with the suavity of one who recognises a reasonable statement, “but now that you are better, what do you come nosing round the mine for? Why don’t you go on with your shooting and your fishing?”

“Because Mr. Armstrong was to be my guide, and he, I regret to say, has not yet returned home. As he is tramping from Chicago to the ranch, no one knows when he will put in an appearance.”

“Well, Mr. Stranleigh, we are plain, ordinary backwoods folks, that have no reason for loving or trusting people who come from the city, as you do. You say that shooting is your game. Now, we can do a bit of shooting ourselves, and I tell you plainly that if any stranger was found prowling around here, he’d have got a bullet in a more vital spot than you did. Do you understand me?”

“Your meaning, sir, is perfectly plain. What do you want me to do? Go away from here before Mr. Armstrong returns?”

“No; we don’t say that, but we draw an imaginary line, such as they tell me the equator is, past this end of the farm house, and we ask you not to cross it westward. There’s all the fishing you want down stream, but there’s none up here by the waterfall, neither is there any game to shoot, so you see we’re proposing no hardship if your intentions are what you say they are.”

“Sir, you speak so beautifully that I must address you less familiarly than I am doing. My own name is Ned, but few take the liberty of calling me by that title. I don’t know that I should like it if they did. You are already aware, perhaps, that I answer to the name of Stranleigh. May I enquire what your name is?”

“I’m James Dean.”

“Ah, the Dean of the Faculty? You are leader of this band of brothers?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“Are they unanimous in restricting my liberty on this ranch?”

“You bet!”

“You’ve no right to do such a thing, and besides, it is inhospitable. I came to this ranch properly accredited, with a letter of introduction to Mr. Armstrong. He happens to be away; if he had been here, and I had seen that my visit was unwelcome to him, I should instantly have taken my leave, but I refuse to have my liberty restricted by Mr. Armstrong’s hired men.”

“That’s exactly where you’re wrong, Mr. Stranleigh. In the first place, we’re not hired men; we’re Mr. Armstrong’s partners, and we don’t restrict your liberty on the ranch.”

“A partner contributes his share to the expenses of the combination. I understand Mr. Armstrong bears the burden alone.”

“We contribute our labour, which is cash in another form, therefore whether Mr. Armstrong is here, or whether he is away, we mean to defend our property. So when you cross the imaginary line I spoke of, you are trespassing, and no jury will convict a man who shoots a trespasser after he has been fully warned, as we warn you.”

“Well, Mr. Dean, I admit that you have right on your side, even if there is not much wisdom at the back of it. There is just one more thing I should like to know. Why do you treat me as an enemy?”

“As a possible enemy,” corrected Dean.

“As a possible enemy, then?”

“Because we don’t like your actions, and we don’t think much of you. You’re a city man, and we don’t trust any such.”

“But Mr. Banks, who gave me the letter to your chief, is not only a city man, but a lawyer. He has been here, and spoke highly of his reception.”

“That was before the mine was opened, and as for being a lawyer, we hate ’em, of course, but they’re like rattlesnakes. In some seasons of the year they are harmless. The opening of the silver mine opened the rattlesnake season, and that’s why this lawyer snake in Bleachers is trying to cheat Armstrong out of his ranch. He came over here with a mining engineer and learnt the whole value of the ground. How do we know you’re not a mining engineer?”

“I regret to say I’m nothing so useful.”

“And didn’t you send Miss Armstrong into Bleachers to see that villain Ricketts? What connection have you with him?”

“None at all, Mr. Dean. I never saw Ricketts in my life, and never heard of him before the day you mistook me for the sheriff.”

Dean glanced at his companions, who had taken no part in the colloquy, but who listened with an interest at once critical and suspicious. It was evident that their distrust could not be dissipated, or even mitigated, by strenuous talk, and for a moment Stranleigh was tempted to tell them that he had lent three thousand dollars to Miss Armstrong, in the hope that this money, added to her own, would gain some sort of concession from the obdurate lawyer. But he remembered that the girl was in constant communication with these men, and if she had not already informed them of his futile assistance, it was because she did not want them to know.

Dean pondered for a few moments before he spoke. He seemed to have gathered in the purport of his men’s thoughts without the necessity for words. At last he said:

“May I take it you agree hereafter to attend to your own business?”

Stranleigh laughed.

“There would be no use in my making that promise, for I have never in my life attended to my own business. My business affairs are all looked after by men who are experts. They live in New York and in London, and although I make a decision now and then, I do that as seldom as possible. It fatigues me.”

“So you are a loafer?”

“That’s it exactly, Mr. Dean, and I freely give you my promise not to loaf about your silver mine.”

“Are you so rich as all that?”

“You are not consistent, Mr. Dean. How can you ask me to attend to my business if you do not attend to yours? Whether I am rich or poor is none of your affair?”

“Quite true,” agreed Jim, nonchalantly, “we will let it go at that.”

Stranleigh, with a smile, bowed courteously to the group.

“I wish you a very good day,” he said, and turning, strolled down to the house at a leisurely gait, quite in keeping with his self-declared character of loafer. His back offered an excellent target, but no man raised his rifle, and Stranleigh never looked over his shoulder, never hurried a step, but walked as one very sure of himself, and in no fear of attack.

“Stuck up cuss,” said Jim to his comrades. “I’d like to take that chap down a peg. Let’s get back to the bunk house and talk it over,” so they, too, left the pit mouth, and returned to their cabin.