nd cut open a sack, but as he was
pouring a generous sample of the ore into his handkerchief a man stepped
out of the next warehouse.

"Hey!" he called, "what are you doing, over there? You get down and
leave that ore alone!"

"Go to hell!" returned Denver, tying a knot in his handkerchief, and the
man came over on the run.

"Say!" he threatened, "you put that ore back or you'll find yourself in
serious trouble."

"Oh, I will, hey?" replied Denver with his most tantalizing smile.
"Whose ore do you think this is, anyway?"

"It belongs to Mr. Murray, and you'd better put it back or I'll report
the matter at once."

"Well, report it," answered Denver. "My name is Denver Russell and I'm
taking this up to the assayer."

"There's Mr. Murray, now," exclaimed the man and as Denver looked up he
saw a yellow automobile churning rapidly along through the dust. Murray
himself was at the wheel and, sitting beside him, was another man
equally familiar--it was Dave, his hired gun-man.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Russell?" demanded Murray with asperity
and Denver became suddenly calm. Old Murray had been hiding from him,
but they had summoned him by telephone, and he had brought along Dave
for protection. But that should not keep him from having his way and
forcing Murray to a show-down.

"I just came down for a sample of that ore I sent you," answered Denver
with a sarcastic grin. "McGraw said you claimed it was no good, so I
thought I'd have it assayed."

"Oh," observed Murray and for a minute he sat silent while Dave and
Denver exchanged glances. The gun-man was slight and insignificant
looking, with small features and high, boney cheeks; but there was a
smouldering hate in his deep-set eyes which argued him in no mood for a
jest, so Denver looked him over and said nothing.

"Very well," said Murray at last, "the ore is yours. Go ahead and have
it assayed. But with the price of silver down to forty-five cents I
doubt if that stuff will pay smelter charges. I'll ship it, if you say
so, along with this other, if only to make up a carload; but it will be
at your own risk and if the returns show a deficit, your mine will be
liable for the balance."

"Oh, that's the racket, eh?" suggested Denver. "You've got your good eye
on my mine. Well, I'd just like to tell you----"

"No, I haven't," snapped back Murray, his voice harsh and strident, "I
wouldn't accept your mine as a gift. Your silver is practically
worthless and