“What’s the game here, Tom?” Harry called cheerily.  “Any real excitement going on?”

“No.”  Tom shook his head.  “Just a little misunderstanding over a question of fact.”

“Then I see that the lie hasn’t been passed,” grinned Hazelton.  “The ground isn’t littered at all.”

He rode up to his chum, displaying no curiosity.

That the automobile party had been much cheered by the arrival of the young engineers was wholly apparent.  For the same reason the four men appeared to be a good deal less certain of themselves.

“I guess there isn’t going to be any real trouble,” spoke Reade carelessly.  “But there’s a question at issue that I feel it would be impertinent in me to try to settle, so I’ve sent for Jim Ferrers to bring over the whole crowd.”

Though Harry couldn’t imagine where Ferrers’s “crowd” was, he wisely held his tongue.

At the same time an earnest conference was going on among the four men.  They spoke in low whispers.

“Jim Ferrers, alone, we could handle,” declared the leader.  “But if Jim has a crowd back of him things won’t go our way when it come to the shooting.”

“Let’s start it before Ferrers’s party gets here,” growled another of the sullen ones.

“We would be tracked down and shot at by Ferrers and a crowd,” argued the leader.  “Things are too warm for us here, just now.  In a case like this remember that a fellow lasts longer when he does his shooting from ambush and at his own time.  We won’t let this Dunlop crowd fool us out of our rights, but we’ll have to choose a better time—–­and fight from ambush at that.”

It was soon plain that this view prevailed among the quartette.  As they turned to move away, the leader remarked: 

“We’ll leave you for a while, Dunlop, but don’t image you’ve won.  Don’t get any notion that you’ll ever win.  You’ll hear from us again.”

“And you’ll hear a plenty as long as your hearing remains good,” snarled another of the men.

The four disturbers, turning their backs, started down the sloping trail.

“Oh, but I’m glad we’ve seen the last of them!” shuddered one of the women of the Dunlop party.

“Don’t be deceived into thinking that the last has been seen of that crew, madam,” spoke Tom Reade gently.  “Those fellows will be heard from again, and at no very distant hour, either.  Mr. Dunlop—–­I believe that is your name, sir?”

The stout man bowed.

“Mr. Dunlop,” Reade went on, earnestly, “I urge you to get these women and the child away from here as soon as you can.  Also any of the men who may happen to have no taste for fighting.  I don’t believe you’ll see those four men in the open any more, but there’ll be more than one shot fired from ambush.  You surely won’t expose these women and the child any further!”

“But, Father,” broke in one of the women, tremulously, “if we leave, it will take one of your two fighting men to run the car.  Think how weak that will leave your defense.”