Bob Hampton of Placer - Page 125/205

Mason nodded, his eyes wandering from Hampton's expressive face to the

crowd beginning to collect beneath the shade of a huge oak a hundred

yards below.

"Never carry a knife, do ye?"

"No."

"Thought not; always heard you fought with a gun. Caught no sight of

the feller after ye got up?"

"All I saw then was the crowd blocking the door-way. I knew they had

caught me lying on Slavin, with my hand grasping the knife-hilt, and,

someway, I couldn't think of anything just then but how to get out of

there into the open. I 've seen vigilantes turn loose before, and knew

what was likely to happen!"

"Sure. Recognize anybody in that first bunch?"

"Big Jim, the bartender, was the only one I knew; he had a bung-starter

in his hand."

Mason nodded thoughtfully, his mouth puckered. "It's him, and half a

dozen other fellers of the same stripe, who are kickin' up all this

fracas. The most of 'em are yonder now, an' if it wus n't fer leavin'

a prisoner unprotected, darn me if I wud n't like to mosey right down

thar an' pound a little hoss sense into thet bunch o' cattle. Thet's

'bout the only thing ye kin do fer a plum fool, so long as the law

won't let ye kill him."

They lapsed into contemplative silence, each man busied with his own

thought, and neither perceiving clearly any probable way out of the

difficulty. Hampton spoke first.

"I 'm really sorry that you got mixed up in this, Buck, for it looks to

me about nine chances out of ten against either of us getting away from

here unhurt."

"Oh, I don't know. It's bin my experience thet there's allers chances

if you only keep yer eyes skinned. Of course them fellers has got the

bulge; they kin starve us out, maybe they kin smoke us out, and they

kin sure make things onpleasant whenever they git their long-range guns

to throwin' lead permiscous. Thet's their side of the fun. Then, on

the other hand, if we kin only manage to hold 'em back till after dark

we maybe might creep away through the bush to take a hand in this

little game. Anyhow, it 's up to us to play it out to the limit.

Bless my eyes, if those lads ain't a-comin' up right now!"

A half-dozen men were starting to climb the hillside, following a dim

trail through the tangled underbrush. Looking down upon them, it was

impossible to distinguish their faces, but two among them, at least,

carried firearms. Mason stepped up on to the ore-dump where he could

see better, and watched their movements closely.