ne, if I have ter
brain every tough in Glencaid to do it. Thet's me, gents."

"Oh, come off; you can't run your notions agin the whole blame moral
sentiment of this camp."

"Moral sentiment! I 'm backin' up the law, not moral sentiment, ye
cross-eyed beer-slinger, an' if ye try edgin' up ther another step I
'll plug you with this '45.'"

There was a minute of hesitancy while the men below conferred, the
marshal looking contemptuously down upon them, his revolver gleaming
ominously in the light. Evidently the group hated to go back without
the prisoner.

"Oh, come on, Buck, show a little hoss sense," the leader sang out.
"We 've got every feller in camp along with us, an' there ain't no show
fer the two o' ye to hold out against that sort of an outfit."

Mason smiled and patted the barrel of his Colt.

"Oh, go to blazes! When I want any advice, Jimmie, I'll send fer ye."

Some one fired, the ball digging up the soft earth at the marshal's
feet, and flinging it in a blinding cloud into Hampton's eyes. Mason's
answer was a sudden fusilade, which sent the crowd flying
helter-skelter into the underbrush. One among them staggered and half
fell, yet succeeded in dragging himself out of sight.

"Great Scott, if I don't believe I winged James!" the shooter remarked
cheerfully, reaching back into his pocket for more cartridges. "Maybe
them boys will be a bit more keerful if they once onderstand they 're
up agin the real thing. Well, perhaps I better skin down, fer I reckon
it's liable ter be rifles next."

It was rifles next, and the "winging" of Big Jim, however it may have
inspired caution, also developed fresh animosity in the hearts of his
followers, and brought forth evidences of discipline in their approach.
Peering across the sheltering dump pile, the besieged were able to
perceive the dark figures cautiously advancing through the protecting
brush; they spread out widely until their two flanks were close in
against the wall of rock, and then the deadly rifles began to spit
spitefully, the balls casting up the soft dirt in clouds or flattening
against the stones. The two men crouched lower, hugging their pile of
slag, unable to perceive even a stray assailant within range of their
ready revolvers. Hampton remained cool, alert, and motionless,
striving in vain to discover some means of escape, but the little
marshal kept grimly cheerful, creeping constantly from point to point
in the endeavor to get a re