"Yes," nodded Tom. "But don't take with us any fellow who is hot-blooded enough to do any real shooting."
"It'll take real shooting to get Gage's crew off that ridge," Ferrers warned the young engineer. "All men get gold crazy when they find their feet on a claim. Dolph Gage will fight while he has breath left. Don't try to go over there, sir, if you're not satisfied to have a little shooting done at need."
"We're going over," declared Tom, the lines about his mouth tightening, "and we're going to take the claim for our own, as long as we have the legal right to do so. But I hope there won't have to be any gun-powder burned. Killing belongs only to one line of business—-war!"
CHAPTER XII
NEW OWNERS FILE A CLAIM
Dolph Gage, after his richly deserved battering of the day before, presented a sorry-looking sight as he stood near the notice of his claim location.
In his right hand he gripped the only rifle there now was in his outfit, the one brought back by the man who had been to Dugout.
Jim Ferrers, rifle resting across the front of his saddle, rode at the head of the Reade-Hazelton party as that outfit reached the edge of the claim.
On either side of the guide, just to the rear, rode Tom and Harry. Behind them tramped four men armed with rides, the other two men carrying a board, stakes and a hammer.
"The first man who sets foot on this claim dies!" shouted Dolph
Gage hoarsely.