ty,"
promised Jim. "I won't sleep until I've seen our papers filed."

"You'll file the claim in your own name, Jim," Tom suddenly suggested.

"No; I won't," retorted Ferrers. "I'll play squarely."

"That will be doing squarely by us, Jim," Tom continued. "We
don't want to use up our claim privileges on one stretch of Nevada
dirt."

If we can find claims enough we'll stake out three, and then pool
them all together in a gentlemen's agreement."

"That's a good deal of trust you're showing in me, gentlemen," said
Jim huskily.

"Never mind, Jim," returned Reade quietly. "You can show us, you
know, that we didn't waste our confidence."

While they were still talking the three came in sight of the ridge.

"Look there!" gasped Harry suddenly.

"Dolph Gage and his tin-horn crowd!" flared Jim Ferrers, in anger.
"Hang the fellow! This time I'll-----"

"Stop fingering your rifle, Jim," ordered Reade. "Remember, nothing
like fighting! If they haven't filed notice in due form on the claim,
we're safe yet. If they have-----"

"Look!" hissed Ferrers.

At that moment Dolph Gage could be seen nailing a sheet of white
paper to a board driven into the soil.

"We've staked what you want, I reckon!" bellowed Gage laconically.
"Staked it in due form, too, if you want to know."

"I guess we've lost that claim," said Tom slowly.

"Have we?" hissed Jim Ferrers.

CHAPTER VII

READY TO HANDLE THE PICK

"Keep off this ground!" yelled Dolph Gage, snatching up his rifle.

"Stop that nonsense," Tom bellowed back in his own lusty voice.

"You've no right on this ground."

"Yes, we have, if you want to know," Tom continued. "You haven't
filed your papers at Dugout yet."

"How do you know we haven't?"

"I'll take a chance on it," smiled Tom amiably, as he and his
companions continued to walk nearer.

Jim Ferrers held his rifle so that it would take him but an instant
to swing it into action if the need came.

"If you've filed your papers for this claim" Tom continued, lowering
his voice somewhat as they drew nearer to the four rascals. "Have
you any such paper to show us?"

"Perhaps not," growled Dolph Gage, his evil eyes seeming to shoot
flame. "But we've got our notice of claim nailed up here. We
got it here first, and now you can't file any mining entry at
Dugout City for this bit o' ground."

"Not if your notice is written in the prescribed language," Tom
admitted.

"Well, it is. Now, keep