CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE BATTLE OF BALD KNOB
After night had fallen men drifted inconspicuously to the Pony Express Corral. They were armed, all of them with revolvers, two or three with rifles. If any one had studied the faces of the group that gathered round the lantern held by Byers, he would have voted these men hard citizens. Their eyes were steady. They wasted no words and no gestures. Byers had picked them because, as he had put it, “they would stand the gaff.”
Without any discussion of the subject Scot naturally took command of the expedition. He had learned the habit of it during the war.
“You know what we’re going to do,” he said quietly. “The Dodsons have jumped our claims and put up dummies to hold them. We’ll not stand for it. We plan to get the claims back by strategy. Later I’ll tell you how. I suppose Dan has explained to you where you come in. We’ll give leases on Bald Knob to those who go through with us. Understand one thing. We’re not looking for trouble. I don’t want a single shot fired if we can help it. We’re not going to kill anybody. It won’t be necessary. But you boys know Sloan’s gang. They’ll fight if they get a chance. It’s up to us to see that they don’t get that chance.”
An old-timer who had come round the Horn spoke up: “Sounds good, Colonel. How do you aim to get these bully puss men of Dodson’s to give up without snappin’ a cap at us? You sure got me guessin’.”
“That part of the programme comes a little later, Buck,” Scot said, smiling at him. “I think we can pull it off, but I’m not sure. There’s a risk for us. I don’t deny that. They might get one of us. We’ve got to take a chance on that.”
“Let’s get this right, Colonel. Do you mean if they shoot at us we’re not to give ’em what for back?”
“I mean that if there’s only a wild shot or two we’re not to fire back. This isn’t a feud. We want possession of our property. The whole thing will have to be fought out in the courts later, so we don’t want to go to law with a black record of any killings against us. Besides, we’re peaceable citizens who want our rights. We’re not gun-fighters.”
“All right,” grinned Buck. “You’re runnin’ this shebang. I never was in a drift just like this before, but I reckon it’s all right. If I’m the one they get, Colonel, you’ll have to be chief mourner at the plantin’.”