"Stop! Come out!"
"Too late, Captain Grady!" called back Paul, facing about and aiming at the man with his gun. "Now, just you go and open the stockade gate!"
"Thar ain't no need o' thet!" cried the voice of Jack Blowfen. "Well done, boys; I give ye credit."
And over the stockade vaulted the cowboy, leaping from his saddle to the grass on the other side.
Captain Grady knew not which way to turn, and before he could decide the gate was unbarred and Caleb Dottery rode in.
In the meantime Chet had taken a hasty glance through the house and satisfied himself that Captain Grady was really alone. There was evidence that several visitors had been there but recently—a number of unwashed dishes and drinking glasses.
Chet returned to the doorway and beheld Captain Grady in Jack Blowfen's strong grasp. The firearm had been wrenched from the captain and hurled a dozen feet away.
"This—this is an outrage!" puffed the captain in a great rage.
"So is the way ye set up to treat neighbors," replied the cow puncher, coolly. "Why didn't ye leave us in like gentlemen an' thus avoid all trouble?"
The captain glared at him.