“Why?” asked Devine. “This post fixes the key boundary.”
“Trouble is that we’re going to move that post,” said the other man.
He did not appear impatient, and Devine deduced two things from the fact that he was willing to discuss the matter. One was that the jumper, who evidently had not met the Indian, was unaware that the men from the settlement were then in all probability pushing on as fast as possible through the brûlée, and the other that the man had no desire to proceed to extremities. This was reassuring as far as it went, but it must be admitted that the surveyor was afterward a little astonished at his collectedness and perspicacity.
“Why don’t you want to move all the posts?” he asked.
“We couldn’t square that with your record,” was the candid answer. “Moving one will swing you across instead of along the lead, and will let in our new location. I’m telling you this, because you’ll probably be reasonable now that you understand the thing. Light out and don’t make trouble, and you’ll still hold quite a strip on the lead.”
“Give us a minute or two to think it over,” said Devine.
“In the meanwhile you’ll stop just where you are,” Saunders broke in.
The man waved his hand as though he conceded that point, and Devine turned to his companion.
“I’ve only one excuse to make. When I staked off the claims, I was in a feverish hurry to prove the lead and get down and record,” he said. “Now, that’s not an educated man, but he’s got the hang of this thing as clearly as a surveyor could have done. It’s evident that the man who hired him has drilled it into him, and, what is more, has warned him that he’s to make no unnecessary trouble. We’re to be bounced out of rather more than half our claim, but it’s to be done as quietly as possible. He explained the matter in the expectation that we’d pull out and leave the field to them.”
“You’ve hit it,” said Saunders. “Don’t answer. Let him speak again. We’ve got to gain time.”