"Nope. Nothin' under a thousand takes that there place! I dunno 'bout this mortgage—ain't heard of it——"
"Look at it," struck in Sandy. "I'll go to law and take the place if I want! Give ye two hundred cash, not a cent more."
"Nope," said Piute, bristling. "I got a few rights my own self, and I know 'em! If it's the minerals ye're after——"
"Minerals!" exclaimed Mackintavers with scorn. "I'm done with mining. I want a homestead."
"Well," proposed Piute, "that's diff'rent. I'll give ye an option on the homestead for a thousand. Ye look her over, and if she's what ye want——"
"Nothing doing," rejoined Sandy. "I'm offering cash down, here an' now. And I won't listen to a thousand."
Piute hesitated. He had not glimpsed Sandy's roll of travelers' checks, these three pilgrims looked none too prosperous, and he began to think that he had set the ante too high.
"Tell ye what," he said, "I wa'n't figgerin' on selling, but cash is diff'rent. And this here mortgage thing—well, say seven hundred!"
Sandy thought of that ruby silver ore, and fished for his check book.
"You show me clear title an' give me a deed, and I'll give you five hundred. Take it or leave it! That's the last word out o' me."