Without a word Mr. Jacobs looked at his companions; and as if in answer to his unspoken appeal one of them (Charley tried hard to compare him with the stranger aboard the California) extracted from a pocketbook the well-remembered slips, and tossed them aside, to the ground.
Charley daringly darted forward and picked them up. Billy followed and rescued his rifle.
"Are those the same?" queried red-shirt, of Charley.
"Yes, sir."
"All right. Now," repeated red-shirt, to the Jacobs trio, "you git, as aforesaid."
That the long-nosed man and his two cronies had guilty consciences was very plain, for replying by naught (and rather white in the face at the threatening advance of several Rough and Ready-ites) they backed away, down the other side of the ridge; at a little distance they shook their fists and yelped something, but they kept on going, so long as Charley looked. They had left not only Billy's gun, but their own guns also.
Young Mrs. Motte now was speaking, and so was her husband.
"It isn't fair," she declared bravely. "This gentleman and his two boys found the claim, again, and have given it up without a word, after all their trouble; and they took care of my uncle, and it looks as though he intended them to have the claim, as much as us."
"He certainly intended them to have some of it——" added her husband.
"More likely he thought that you hadn't got his letter, and for that reason gave us a chance," put in Mr. Adams, quickly.