This led, oddly enough, to a drawn game. On the very instant when Sparwick drew a bead on the foremost of his enemies, both Raikes and Bogle leveled their weapons straight at his breast. There was a brief and awful pause. Why neither party opened fire it is impossible to say. Some strange instinct stayed their hands.
“Put them weapons down,” said Sparwick, in calm tones.
“Lower yours first,” replied Raikes.
“Not likely,” muttered Sparwick. “I can’t trust two such lyin’ skunks an’ sneaks.”
There was another pause. Then Raikes let the barrel of his weapon fall. Bogle instantly did the same.
“Your turn, Sparwick,” he said, suddenly. “I’m a peaceable man, and would go a good deal out of my way any time to avoid bloodshed. So the thousand dollars is yours; I give you my word on it. It’s not a square deal, though. You ought to have been satisfied with five hundred.”
“That ain’t my way of thinkin’,” replied Sparwick, as he slightly lowered his rifle; “and as for the offer of a thousand, why, that’s come too late. What I want now is five thousand, an’ I’m going ter have it or bust this game.”
This audacious statement made Raikes and Bogle fairly gasp for breath.
“Five thousand dollars!” screamed Bogle. “What do you take us for? Do you expect us to give you half of the whole sum?”
In his anger, he lifted his rifle again.