"You ought to know who we are, Jim Marquand, and you know what we want!"
"Yes, I know you all right, Lasar, and I'll make you smart for this."
"The place is as much mine as it is yours," answered Lasar. "And I propose to take it! If you'll make an even divvy of what you have found, or expect to find, we'll go away and let you alone. If you don't we'll take the whole outfit."
"Take it, take it!" jeered Marquand. "You couldn't take it in a hundred years—not unless you used artillery."
"Then we'll starve you out," replied the man in the sage brush.
"Look out!" warned the guide.
Mr. Marquand sprang to one side just as a volley crashed through the opening, the bullets rattling to the floor after bounding back from the flint-like walls.
"I guess they've got you, Mr. Marquand. We can't hold out forever. If we had rifles we could pick them off by daylight. But when morning comes they'll draw back out of revolver range and plunk the first man who shows himself outside. Have you any title to this property?"
"Yes. I have bought up a hundred acres about here. The deeds are in my pocket. I guess nobody has a better title.".
"His title is all right," spoke up Professor Zepplin. "I made sure of that before I decided to come with Mr. Marquand."