Mr. Marquand went right on, and the others followed.  As the guide had said there was a small window on the floor above the ground, apparently the only one in the house.

Mr. Marquand hailed the besiegers.

“Who are you and what do you mean by shooting us up in this fashion?” he demanded.

“You ought to know who we are, Jim Marquand, and you know what we want!”

“Yes, I know you all right, Lasar, and I’ll make you smart for this.”

“The place is as much mine as it is yours,” answered Lasar.  “And I propose to take it!  If you’ll make an even divvy of what you have found, or expect to find, we’ll go away and let you alone.  If you don’t we’ll take the whole outfit.”

“Take it, take it!” jeered Marquand.  “You couldn’t take it in a hundred years—­ not unless you used artillery.”

“Then we’ll starve you out,” replied the man in the sage brush.

“Look out!” warned the guide.

Mr. Marquand sprang to one side just as a volley crashed through the opening, the bullets rattling to the floor after bounding back from the flint-like walls.

“I guess they’ve got you, Mr. Marquand.  We can’t hold out forever.  If we had rifles we could pick them off by daylight.  But when morning comes they’ll draw back out of revolver range and plunk the first man who shows himself outside.  Have you any title to this property?”

“Yes.  I have bought up a hundred acres about here.  The deeds are in my pocket.  I guess nobody has a better title.”.

“His title is all right,” spoke up Professor Zepplin.  “I made sure of that before I decided to come with Mr. Marquand.”

“Then there’s only one thing to be done.”

“What’s that?”

“Get a sheriff’s posse and bag the whole bunch.”

Mr. Marquand laughed harshly.

“If we were in a position to get a posse we should be able to get away without one.  I think we had better go below.  This is not a very safe place with this open window.”

“I’ll remain here.”

“What for, Kringle?”

“Somebody’s got to watch the front door to see that they don’t play any tricks on us.  It’s clouding up, and if the night gets dark they’ll try to get in.”

“How far is it to a place where we could get a sheriff?” asked Tad, who had been thinking deeply.

“Hondo.  Fifteen miles due east of here as the moon rises.  Why?”

“If I were sure I could find my way, I think I might get some help,” answered the lad quietly.

“You!” snapped Mr. Marquand, turning on him.

“If I had a rope.  Perhaps I can do it without one.”

“I’d like to know how?”

Mr. Marquand was inclined to treat the proposition lightly, believing that such a move as proposed by Tad Butler was an impossibility.  Kris Kringle, however, was regarding the boy inquiringly.  He knew that Tad had some plan in mind and that it was likely to be a good one.