with a hard smile
slightly curving his thin black moustache. "Drop that rifle, you other
kid. Back up the side of that hollow, both of you, and scoot. You're
in the wrong pew. This happens to be _our_ claim. See?"

Billy was so surprised and bewildered at the sudden attack that he
simply couldn't say a word. He only looked, with mouth open, at
Charley; and then at the men. He and Charley slowly backed away, up
the other slope of the hollow. Charley saw that the three men were
breathing hard, as if they had just arrived, in a hurry. He was so mad
that he, too, scarcely could speak.

"'T isn't either your mine," he retorted hotly. "That's a lie, and you
know it. You're only trying to steal it. It was given to me, and
we've found it again, and we can prove it. You wait till we get our
crowd."

The three behind the gun-muzzles laughed.

"The best thing for your crowd to do is to stay out of shooting
distance," answered the long-nosed man. "We've got the mine, and the
documents to prove it's ourn. Those are two p'ints hard to beat, bub."

"You haven't any right, just the same," retorted Charley, furious.
"You stole those papers, but you needn't think you can steal the mine.
You wait."

"We'll wait," said the long-nosed man, grimly.

"Come on," bade Charley, choking with wrath and almost with tears, to
the astonished Billy. "Let's get our animals and find our partners.
Those fellows needn't think they can bluff _us_."

"Who are they, anyhow?" gasped Billy, as he and Charley went plunging
down the ridge. "Is that their mine? Did they put that sign up? I
thought we found it. We were there first, weren't we?"

"It's a long story, Billy; I'll tell you later," panted Charley,
hurrying. "But it's our mine, all right--same one that was given to
dad and me last spring. Remember I spoke about it? And we're going to
have it, too. Come on."

"And I'm going to have my rifle. They needn't think they can keep
that, either," uttered Billy, waxing pugnacious.

"I see the rest of 'em," announced Charley.

"They're making for the pack animals." And there, threading their way
through the brush near the foot of the ridge, beyond the burro and the
horse, were the figures of Mr. Adams and Mr. Walker and the tall
Fremonter. A fourth figure was with them--he looked like a miner.

Charley and Billy waved and shouted, and hurried.

"Hello! Were you doing that shooting?" demanded Charley's father, as
they