Jim Ferrers, rifle resting across the front of his saddle, rode at the head of the Reade-Hazelton party as that outfit reached the edge of the claim.

On either side of the guide, just to the rear, rode Tom and Harry.  Behind them tramped four men armed with rides, the other two men carrying a board, stakes and a hammer.

“The first man who sets foot on this claim dies!” shouted Dolph Gage hoarsely.

“Same thing for any man who raises a rifle against us,” Ferrers called back.  “Gage, I want only a good excuse for taking one honest shot at you!”

The moment was tense with danger.  Heedless of the black looks of Dolph, Tom dug his heels into his pony’s flanks, moving forward at a trot.

“Gage,” called the young engineer, steadily, “I think you have been in wrong often enough.  This time I am sure that you will want to keep on the right side.”

“You keep on the right side by staying off the claim!” Gage ordered, but at that instant Reade rode over the boundary.

For an instant no man could guess who would fire the first shot.  Gage was angry and desperate enough to fire and take great chances.  Had he fired at that moment there was no doubt that he would have been killed at the next breath.

Something stuck in Gage’s throat.  He did not raise his rifle, but instead he growled: 

“You’re a fine lot, to bring a small army against one man!”

“We have as much right here, Gage, as you have, spoke Tom, steadily.

“What do you want here!”

“We have come to look this claim over.”

“Get off, then.  You have no right here.”

“You know, quite well, Gage, that we have as much right here as you have,” Tom rejoined easily.  “We are quite well aware that your man failed to file the claim because all of you have exhausted your mineral rights under the law.

“So you think you can come here and take it from us, do you?” glared Gage, his face livid with passion.

“We have just the same right to this claim now that any man has who has any mineral rights left under the law,” Reade made answer.

“But you haven’t.  I’m going to get this claim yet,” Gage insisted.  “I’ve sent for a friend who hasn’t taken up any mineral rights yet.  He will file the claim.  See here!”

Gage moved aside, displaying a new board, on which a notice had been written.

“That’s signed with the name of the man the claim belongs to now,” declared Gage, triumphantly.

Tom handed his bridle to Harry, then dismounted, bending over to scan the new notice.  It was a duplicate of the former one, except that the new signature was that of one, Joseph Pringle.

“Where is Pringle?” Tom demanded.

“None of your business.”

“But you see,” explained the young engineer dryly, “it happens to be my business.”

From under his coat Reade drew forth a folding camera.  Quickly opening and focussing he held the camera close, pressing the bulb.