the crowd. He was a lawyer, they knew that, and it stood to reason he
was acting within the law.

L. W.'s auto' reached Ironwood Springs, where Rimrock had made his old
camp, while the sun was still two hours high. From the Springs to the
dome, that great "bust-up" of porphyry which stood square-topped and
sheer against the sky, there was a single trail full of loose, shaly
rocks that mounted up through a notch in the rim. They started up in
silence, Rimrock leading the way and Hassayamp puffing along behind;
but as they neared the heights, where the shattered base of the butte
rose up from the mass of fallen debris, Rimrock forged on and left them
behind.

"Hey, wait!" called Hassayamp with the last of his breath, but neither
Rimrock nor L. W. looked back. It was a race to the top, Rimrock to
get his revenge and L. W. to stop his mad rush; but in this race, as
always, youth took the lead and L. W. lagged far behind. Like a
mountain sheep on some familiar trail Rimrock bounded on until his
breath came in whistling gasps; but, while the blood pounded against
his brainpan and his muscles quivered and twitched, the strength of ten
men pulsed through his iron limbs, and he kept his face to the heights.

He was all of a tremble when, in the notch of the trail, he was
challenged by a ringing:

"Halt!"

He stopped, sucked in a great breath and dashed the stinging sweat from
his eyes; and then, hardly seeing the barricade before him or the
rifles that thrust out between the rocks, he put down his head and
toiled on. Right on the rim, where the narrow trail nicked it, the
gunmen had built a low wall and as he came on unheeding they rose up
from behind it and threw down on him with their rifles.

"Stop right where you are!" a guard called out harshly and Rimrock
halted--and then he came on.

"Get back or we'll shoot!" shouted a grizzled gunman who now suddenly
seemed to take charge. "This claim is held by Andrew McBain and the
first man that trespasses get's killed!"

"Well, shoot then," panted Rimrock, still struggling up the pathway.
"Go ahead--it's nothing to me."

"Hey, you stop!" commanded the gunman as Rimrock gained the barricade,
and he struck him back with the muzzle of his gun. Rimrock staggered
and caught himself and then held on weakly as his breath came in
quivering sobs.

"That's all right," he gasped. "I've got no quarrel with you. I came
to get Andrew McBain."

"Well, stay where you are,