“Come on!” cried Rick with shining eyes. “We can make the place before night and open our gates and close theirs. Come on!”
“Easy, boy, easy!” counseled his uncle. “How many men did you say were there in camp?”
“Oh, about a dozen,” answered Rick. “Wouldn’t you say that many, Chot?”
“I reckon so. Maybe ten or eleven, anyhow.”
Rick looked at Uncle Tod expectantly.
“And you expect that we two men and two boys can go up against a dozen hard-shelled members of the Lawson gang?” asked Mr. Belmont with a quizzical smile.
“We got Ruddy, too,” asserted Chot.
“Yes, son, but we don’t want Ruddy to get hurt and I don’t want you boys to go back east in bandages,” said Uncle Tod. “No, we’ll do this thing in regular order and with the law on our side. I know the law will be on my side for I have papers to show that I own the rights to Lost River.”
“Well, let’s get busy then,” suggested Sam. “Will you go down to Bitter Sweet Gulch and tell the sheriff and get a gang to come back and clean out this Lawson crowd?”
“I will,” said Uncle Tod. “I’ll take my papers with me, see a lawyer, if there’s one in town, and then we’ll start Lost River back where she belongs.”