"Curse you!" shouted Max over his shoulder. "If you interfere now I'll shoot you like a dog!"
Sefton and Lemarc, riding and leading two other horses, came into view through the trees. Evidently Garcia had not lied, evidently there was some roundabout trail from the far side of the lake, evidently, the treasure found, these men wished to lose no time in carrying it away with them.
They had not heard until they had seen; by that time they were not fifty yards away and Max's rifle bore unwaveringly upon Sefton's chest.
"Up with your hands, Sefton and Lemarc!" he called loudly. "In the name of the Law!"
"Fight it out, Sefton, if you are a man!" shouted Drennen, his own rifle at his shoulder. "I am going to kill you any way!"
Ernestine was crying out inarticulately; no one listened to the thing she was trying to say. She had waited too long. Marshall Sothern, a queer smile upon his lips which Drennen was never to forget, strode to his son's side.
"Dave," he said gently. "If you are doing this for me … let be! I have told Max."
"What do you mean?" muttered Drennen dully. "Told him what?"
"Who I am."
He laid his hand on the barrel of Drennen's rifle, forcing it downward. His son stared at him with wondering eyes.