“I ’ll have to ask ye ter stop right thar, gents,” he said, genially, drawing back the hammer with a sharp click.  “Ye ‘re trespassin’ on my property.”

The two men came to an instant halt, Farnham smiling unpleasantly, his hands buried in his pockets.  His companion hastily shoved back his hat, as though in surprise at the summons, revealing a broad, ruddy face, shadowed by iron-gray whiskers.  Hicks half lowered his gun, giving vent to a smothered oath.

“By God, it’s the sheriff!” he muttered, in complete bewilderment.  “What the hell are we up against?”

There was an interval of intense silence, both parties gazing at each other, the one side startled, unnerved, the other cool, contemptuous.  It was the sheriff who first spoke, standing firmly on his short legs, and quietly stroking his beard.

“You probably recognize me, Bill Hicks,” he said, calmly, “and it might be just as healthy for you to lower that gun.  I ain’t here hunting any trouble, but if it begins I ’ve got a posse over yonder big enough to make it mighty interesting.  You sabe?”

Old Hicks hesitated, his finger yet hovering about the trigger, his eyes filled with doubt.  There was some mystery in this affair he could not in the least fathom, but he was obstinate and hard-headed.

“Yes, I know you all right, Mr. Sheriff,” he returned, yet speaking half angrily.  “But I don’t know what ye ‘re dippin’ inter this yere affair fer.  I haven’t any quarrel with you, ner any cause fer one.  But I have with that grinnin’ cuss alongside o’ yer.  I ’ll talk with you all right, but Farnham will either mosey back ter his own den o’ thieves, ’er I ’ll blow a hole plumb through him—­that’s flat.  I don’t talk ter his kind.”

The sheriff held up one hand, taking a single step forward, his face grown sternly resolute.

“Mr. Farnham chances to be present as my deputy,” he announced gravely.  “I don’t know anything about a quarrel between you two men, and I care less.  I ’m here to enforce the law and arrest law-breakers.  If you decide to interfere between me and my duty I ’ll know how to act.  I ’ve smelt of the business end of a gun before to-day, and I guess nobody ever saw Sam Hayes play baby when there was a fight on tap.  If there ’s trouble between you and Farnham, have it out, and git done with it in proper fashion, but just now he ’s a sworn officer of the law, and when you threaten him you threaten all Gulpin County.  Do you manage to digest that fact, Hicks?”

The sturdy old prospector, his face white with rage under the tan, uncocked his rifle and dropped the butt heavily upon the earth, his eyes wandering from the face of the sheriff to that of Winston.

“What the hell is it yer want, then?” he asked sullenly.  Hayes smiled, shifting easily so as to rest his weight on one leg.

“Got anybody in your bunch named Winston?” he questioned, “Ned Winston, mining engineer?”