actions was groundless. So far, all was legal, he supposed, with
his scant knowledge of law; though the methods seemed
unreasonable. The men might be doing what they thought to be
right. Why be the first to resist? The men on the mines below had
not done so. The title to this ground was capable of such easy
proof that he and Dex need have no uneasiness. Courts do not rob
honest people nowadays, he argued, and moreover, perhaps the
girl's words were true, perhaps she WOULD think more of him if he
gave up the old fighting ways for her sake. Certainly armed
resistance to her uncle's first edict would not please her. She
had said he was too violent, so he would show her he could lay his
savagery aside. She might smile on him approvingly, and that was
worth taking a chance for--anyway it would mean but a few days'
delay in the mine's run. As he reasoned he heard a low voice
speaking within the open door. It was Slapjack Simms.

"Step aside, lad. I've got the big un covered."

Glenister saw the men on horseback snatch at their holsters, and,
just in time, leaped at his foreman, for the old man had moved out
into the open, a Winchester at shoulder, his cheek cuddling the
stock, his eyes cold and narrow. The young man flung the barrel up
and wrenched the weapon from his hands.

"None of that, Hank!" he cried, sharply. "I'll say when to shoot."
He turned to look into the muzzles of guns held in the hands of
every horseman--every horseman save one, for Alec McNamara sat
unmoved, his handsome features, nonchalant and amused, nodding
approval. It was at him that Hank's weapon had been levelled.