y clinching,
but Hicks remained motionless, his lean jaws continuously munching on
the tobacco in his cheek.

"Who the hell is that with him?" he questioned, wonderingly. "Do you
know the feller?"

Winston shook his head, his own steady gaze riveted upon Farnham.
Deliberately the two climbed the low ore-dump side by side, and came
forth on top into the full glare of the sun. Hicks's Winchester sank
to a level, his wicked old eye peering along the polished barrel.

"I 'll have to ask ye ter stop right thar, gents," he said, genially,
drawing back the hammer with a sharp click. "Ye 're trespassin' on my
property."

The two men came to an instant halt, Farnham smiling unpleasantly, his
hands buried in his pockets. His companion hastily shoved back his
hat, as though in surprise at the summons, revealing a broad, ruddy
face, shadowed by iron-gray whiskers. Hicks half lowered his gun,
giving vent to a smothered oath.

"By God, it's the sheriff!" he muttered, in complete bewilderment.
"What the hell are we up against?"

There was an interval of intense silence, both parties gazing at each
other, the one side startled, unnerved, the other cool, contemptuous.
It was the sheriff who first spoke, standing firmly on his short legs,
and quietly stroking his beard.

"You probably recognize me, Bill Hicks," he said, calmly, "and it might
be just as healthy for you to lower that gun. I ain't here hunting any
trouble, but if it begins I 've got a posse over yonder big enough to
make it mighty interesting. You sabe?"

Old Hicks hesitated, his finger yet hovering about the trigger, his
eyes filled with doubt. There was some mystery in this affair he could
not in the least fathom, but he was obstinate and hard-headed.

"Yes, I know you all right, Mr. Sheriff," he returned, yet speaking
half angrily. "But I don't know what ye 're dippin' inter this yere
affair fer. I haven't any quarrel with you, ner any cause fer one.
But I have with that grinnin' cuss alongside o' yer. I 'll talk with
you all right, but Farnham will either mosey back ter his own den o'
thieves, 'er I 'll blow a hole plumb through him--that's flat. I don't
talk ter his kind."

The sheriff held up one hand, taking a single step forward, his face
grown sternly resolute.

"Mr. Farnham chances to be present as my deputy," he announced gravely.
"I don't know anything about a quarrel between you two men, and I care
less. I 'm here to enforce the law