A moment or two later a man appeared.
"Scaith!" he called, and the fellow under the blanket struggled as if he had heard.
"Quit it!" warned Joe, striking him hard; and then shouted: "Stand off before you get hurt!"
The newcomer stopped, no doubt trying to make out the meaning of what he indistinctly saw, and Joe, hearing two or three more running, did not get up. If the fellow attacked him, he would resist, but he wished to keep his captive out of action as long as possible. They waited, both expecting help, until Watkins and the third of Joe's party came upon the scene. Behind them appeared three others, and both parties paused. In the darkness it was difficult to discover what was going on.
"Where's our boss?" the first of the strangers asked.
"I can't say," Joe answered. "One of your crowd's in the gulch, and I've another here who'll sure get damaged if he don't keep still. I don't know which is which."
Scaith's friends seemed disconcerted at the news.
"What's to be done about it, Joe?" Watkins broke in.
"Well," said Joe coolly, "I guess we'll give them a chance to quit." He addressed the opposite party. "You had better look for your partner, boys. There'll be no stakes pulled up to-night."
"We can wipe you out!" was the answer. "We've got a gun!"