“I’m afraid they’ve got us, Dan.”

“Oh, I don’t know; leastwise I ain’t put up no white flag yet.  You’re game fer a try at gettin’ out o’ yere, ain’t yer, old man?  I’ve sorter been reckonin’ on yer.”

“I’ll take any chance there is,” returned Westcott heartily, staring into the other’s face.  “Have you some plan?”

“Maybe ‘tain’t that exactly, but I’ve been doin’ a powerful lot o’ thinkin’ since you was asleep, Jim, an’ I reckon we might beat these fellers with a fair show o’ luck.  This is how I figure it out.  Thar won’t be no attack; that’s a cinch.  Lacy knows we can shoot, an’ he also knows we’re marooned yere without food.  The easiest thing is ter starve us out.”

“But there are good men in this camp, law abiding men,” interrupted the miner.  “What about them?  Won’t they take a hand?”

“Maybe they might if I was free ter get ’em together; but I ain’t.  Most o’ ’em are out in the mines anyway; they don’t know which party is right in this rumpus, an’ they ain’t got no leader.  Lacy runs the town, an’ he’s got a big gang o’ toughs behind him.  There ain’t nobody wants to buck up against his game.  Of course the boys might get mad after a while, but I reckon we’d be starved plumb ter death long afore that happened.  An’ that ain’t the worst ov it, Jim—­the sheriff is Lacy’s man.  I wouldn’t never dare turn you over ter him—­not by a jugful.”

“Then we are blocked at every turn.”

“We sure are, unless we can dig out ourselves,” gravely.  “My notion is to get a fair start, drift out into Shoshone, whar we’ll leave no trail, an’ then hit for over the line.  Sam Watts is sheriff of Coconino, an’ he’d give us a square deal.”

“On foot?”

“Hell, no!  I ain’t no such walker as all that.  Come over yere; keep yer head down; now look out between these two rocks.  Do yer see them cow-ponies hitched ter the rack alongside o’ the Red Dog?  Well, they’ve been thar fer a matter o’ three hours, I reckon, an’ their riders ain’t liable ter leave as long as thar’s any excitement in town.  They’re XL men, and mostly drunk by this time.  It’s my aim ter get a leg over one o’ them animals.  How does that notion strike you?”

Westcott shook his head doubtfully, his eyes still on those distant specks.  The prospect looked practically hopeless.

“You don’t think it can be done?  Well now listen.  Here’s my scheme, an’ I reckon it’ll work.  Naturally Lacy will think we’ll try to get away—­make a break for it in the dark.  He’ll have both them banks guarded, an’ ther fellers will have orders ter shoot.  He’d rather have us dead than alive.  But, to my notion, he won’t expect us ter try any getaway before midnight.  Anyhow, that’s how I’d figure if I was in his place.  But my idea is to pull one off on him, an’ start the minute it gets dark enough, so them lads can’t see what’s goin’ on out yere.”

“We’ll fight our way through?”