“That’s all right,” returned Denver, “he don’t look bad to me. You just lend me a gun and─”
“He’ll kill ye!” warned Bunker, “I know by his eye. He’s a killer if ever there was one. So don’t go up against him unless you mean business, because you can’t run no blazer on him!”
“Well–oh hell, then,” burst out Denver, “what’s the use of getting killed! Isn’t there anything else 163we can do? I don’t need to eject him because he’s got no title, anyway. How about these lead-pencil fellows that haven’t done their work for years?”
“That’s it,” explained Bunker, “we were having a meeting when we seen you horn in on Dave. These gentlemen are all men that have held their ground for years and it don’t seem right they should lose it. At the same time it’ll take something more than a slap on the wrist to make these blasted jumpers let go. They’ve staked all the good claims and are up doing the work on them and the question is–what can we do?”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” spoke up the old prospector vindictively as the crowd surged into the store, “I’ll get up on the Leap and shoot down on them jumpers until I chase the last one of ’em off. They can’t run no rannikaboo on me!”
He wagged his long beard and spat impressively but nobody paid any attention to him. They realized at last that they were up against gun-fighters–men picked for quick shooting and iron nerves and working under the orders of one man. That man was Dave Chatwourth, nominally dismissed by Murray but undoubtedly still in his pay, and until they could devise some plan to eliminate him it was useless to talk of violence. So they resumed their meeting and, as Denver owned a claim, he found himself included in the membership. It was a belated revival of the old-time Miners’ Meeting, at one time the supreme law in Western 164mining camps; and Bunker Hill, as Recorder of the district, presided from his perch on the counter.
From his seat in the corner Denver listened apathetically as the miners argued and wrangled, and the longer they talked the more it became apparent that nothing was going to be done. The encounter with Dave had cooled their courage, and more and more the sentiment began to lean towards an appeal to the power of the law. But then it came out that the law was an instrument which might operate as a two-edged sword; for possession, and diligence in working the claim, are the two big points in mining law and just at that moment a legal decision would be all in favor of the jumpers. And if Murray was behind them, as all the circumstances seemed to indicate, he would hire the most expensive lawyers in the country and fight the case to a finish. No, if anything was to be done they must find out some other way, or they would be playing right into his hands.
“I’ll tell you,” proposed Bunker as the talk swung back to action, “let’s go back unarmed and talk to Dave again and find out what he thinks he’s doing. He can’t hold Denver’s claim, and those claims of mine, because the work has just been done; and then, if we can talk him into vacating our ground, maybe these other jaspers will quit.”
“I’ll go you!” said Denver rising up impatiently, “and if he won’t vacate my claim I’ll try some other means and see if we can’t persuade him.”
“That’s the talk!” quavered the old prospector, 165slapping him heartily on the back. “Lord love you, boy, if I was your age I’d be right up in front there, shooting. Why, up in the Bradshaws in Seventy-three─”