CHAPTER II
THE CLAIM-JUMPERS
The moment the three had passed out of sight, Sam Brewster jumped from his horse and led him over to the great tree that caused the trail to turn aside and run around it. He looped the reins over his arm and placed his hands in his coat pockets. As he leaned against the tree-trunk nibbling nonchalantly at a sprig of grass, a tenderfoot would never have dreamed that his fingers were tensely held against the triggers of the revolvers hidden in his pockets.
Soon after Mr. Brewster had taken his stand where he could see the first appearance of any one coming up the trail, two riders approached eagerly scanning the large trees, in evident search of something. As they came to the giant tree where the rancher waited, both men started in surprise.
"How-dy, friends? Out early this morning, eh?" was the greeting the two amazed men received from the alert man at the tree.
"Oh—oh, yes!" stammered one, plainly uneasy.
"Hoh, it's Sam Brewster of Pebbly Pit, ain't it?" said the other, also confused in his manner.
"Right you are, Hank. You see, when a man has to attend to the girls' gold mine, he has to be up right early to forestall the plans of any claim-jumpers who read the records at Oak Creek, yesterday, after we left there. That's why I got a possé to guard the place. I reckon, now, Hank, that your boss sent you-all on to help we-all up yonder, eh?" laughed Mr. Brewster, tantalizingly, as he recognized Hank to be the clerk at the filing office in Oak Creek.