“Carramba!” hissed Silva. “Dat odder Mexicano he move my burro, to give his burro best place. I lick him for dat, bymby!”
Merry was filled with forebodings as to what might happen if both parties went into camp at the Wells; and yet, considering the peculiar condition of affairs, there seemed no possible way to avoid a division of the camping privileges. Both sides held a lease of the ground; and, not until the lawsuit between Struthers and Packard was settled, would it be known which side was entitled to the exclusive use of Tinaja Wells.
“I’ll give you fellows half an hour to begin packing.” blustered Lenning. “If you don’t show symptoms of leaving by that time, there’ll be a fight!”
“I think not,” said Frank, still holding his temper in check. “For the present, Lenning, we’ll both camp at the Wells, and both have the use of water and forage. You and your crowd will keep away from us, however, and we’ll do our best to keep away from you. There’s no sense in having a mix-up.”
“Half an hour,” threatened Lenning. “I’m banking on Struthers. This is his water and his ground, and he’s the only one that has a right to give a lease. We’ve got a bigger crowd than you have, and it won’t bother us much to run you out.”
Here was a complication of the tangle which Merriwell did not relish a little bit. Nevertheless, he knew he was within his rights and he had no intention of backing down and letting Lenning have his way.
Lenning had spun around on his heel with the intention of returning to the spot where his own camp was being put in shape, when Ellis Darrel hurried forward.
“Don’t be in a rush, Jode,” called Darrel. “I want a word with you.”