the
door, their faces broadened into knowing grins, followed by hearty
outbursts of laughter.

The prospector walked at once over to where Curly was standing, and
laid his big right hand upon his shoulder.

"What's all this about?" he asked. "In trouble agin, eh?"

"I've been insulted by _that_?" and Curly motioned to Reynolds.

"An' so yer goin' to shoot?"

"I certainly am, so leave me alone."

"An unarmed man?"

"What in h---- do I care whether he's armed or unarmed?"

"H'm, I guess ye'd care if he had a gun in his hands."

"Let him do it, Samson." It was Reynolds speaking. "An unarmed man is
the only one he would try to shoot. He took mighty good care to keep
out of range of the German guns during the war."

"You're a liar," Curly yelled, for the taunt stung him to the quick.

"Then the lie is on your own bead," was the quiet reply. "You and
others have made the boast that you hid in the mountains and could not
be caught when men were so sorely needed at the Front. If it's a lie,
then you lied first, so don't blame me."

Curly's only response was to raise his revolver and fire. But Samson's
hand struck the weapon in time to divert the aim, and no harm was done.

"Thar, that's enough of sich nonsense." The old prospector's voice was
more than usually stern. "I'm not goin' to stand here an' see a man
shot down in cold blood by the likes of you, Curly. The chap ye want
to kill is worth ten of you any day. An' as fer shootin', why, ye
wouldn't have a peek in with him if he had a gun."

"Give him one, then, and see how he can shoot," was the surly reply.

"But give me that first," and Samson laid his hand upon Curly's
revolver.

"What for?"

"Never mind; I'll explain later, so jist let go. Thar, that's better,"
he commented when Curly had reluctantly obeyed. "Now, look here, I've
got a suggestion to make. Let's settle this racket outside. It's no
use practisin' on human bodies which the Lord made fer something more
important. Whiskey bottles will do as well, an' the more ye smash of
them the better, to my way of thinkin'. So s'pose we stick several of
'em up an' let you two crack away at 'em. That's the best way to find
out who's the real marksman. Anyone got a rifle handy?"

This suggestion was not at all to Curly's liking. He preferred to have
matters all his own way, and his opponent completely at his mercy. But
Frontier Samson, as well as all the miners present, decided other