yhow. Go
ask him what he wants, down there." The last sentence was but feeble
sort of fiction that his boys would await his commands; as a matter of
fact, they were outside before he spoke.

"Take the dogs along," called out Baumberger, quite as futilely, for not
one of the boys was within hearing.

Until they heard footsteps returning at a run, the four stayed where
they were. Baumberger rumbled on in a desultory sort of way, which might
have caused an observant person to wonder where was his lawyer training,
and the deep cunning and skill with which he was credited, for his words
were as profitless and inconsequential as an old woman's. He talked
about tramps, and dogs that barked o' nights, and touched gallantly upon
feminine timidity and the natural, protective instincts of men.

Peaceful Hart may have heard half of what he said--but more likely he
heard none of it. He sat drawing his white beard through his hand, and
his mild, blue eyes were turned often to Phoebe in mute question. Phoebe
herself was listening, but not to Baumberger; she was permitting Evadna
to tuck in stray locks of her soft, brown hair, but her face was turned
to the door which opened upon the porch. At the first clatter of running
footsteps on the porch, she and Peaceful pushed back their chairs
instinctively.

The runner was Donny, and every freckle stood out distinctly upon his
face.

"There's four of 'em, papa!" he shouted, all in one breath. "They're
jumpin' the ranch for placer claims. They said so. Each one's got a
claim, and they're campin' on the corners, so they'll be close together.
They're goin' to wash gold. Good Injun--"

"Oh!" screamed Evadna suddenly. "Don't let him--don't let them hurt him,
Uncle Hart!"

"Aw, they ain't fightin'," Donny assured her disgustedly. "They're
chewin' the rag down there, is all. Good Injun knows one of 'em."

Peaceful Hart stood indecisively, and stared, one and gripping the back
of his chair. His lips were working so that his beard bristled about his
mouth.

"They can't do nothing--the ranch belongs to me," he said, his eyes
turning rather helplessly to Baumberger. "I've got my patent."

"Jumping our ranch!--for placer claims!" Phoebe stood up, leaning hard
upon the table with both hands. "And we've lived here ever since Clark
was a baby!"

"Now, now, let's not get excited over this," soothed Baumberger, getting
out of his chair slowly, like the overfed glutton he was. He picked up a
cr