p to the heavy wooden gate.

"I'll have to jump over and unbar it," said Paul.

"Be careful," was Caleb Dottery's caution. "This may be a trap and----"

He had no need to say more.

"Halt!" came from the yard behind the stockade. "Stop where you are or
I'll fire on you!"

It was Captain Grady himself who spoke.

CHAPTER XXII.

An Important Capture

Of course Paul made a prompt retreat. It would have been worse than
useless, just then, to have remained where he was, with his hands on the
stockade gate.

The party outside could not see Captain Grady, but from the direction of
his voice they knew he was on the other side of the stockade at a point
where several peep and gun holes covered the entrance.

"That's right, you better git back!" went on the captain, as Paul
retreated.

"See here, Grady, what does this mean?" demanded Caleb Dottery, as he
advanced in the direction of the guard openings.

"It means that I have got possession of this ranch, which rightfully
belongs to me, and I mean to keep it," was the grim reply, delivered
with great force and distinctness.

"The Winthrop boys deny yer rights."

"That makes no difference. I know what's what."

"Open the gate and let us talk it over quietly," went on Dottery, who
was naturally a peaceably inclined individual.

"I'm not opening the gate just now. Those boys can go away. I don't mind
you coming around, but I don't want those boys here."

"Well, you'll have to put up with us," cried Chet, angrily. "Now, open
the gate, or we'll smash it down!"

"Don't be rash, Chet!" whispered Paul.

"You monkey!" roared Captain Grady. "Fall back, before I let you have a
dose of buckshot!"

"There will be no shooting here, Captain, unless ye want ter get wiped
out," broke in Jack Blowfen. "Open the gate fer yer neighbors and let us
hev a powwow."

"I've told you wot I'll do--open up when the boys go away."

"Come on, Chet," whispered Paul to his younger brother.

"Yes, but Paul----"

"Come on, I say," and Paul whispered something into Chet's ear.

At once, with a wink at Jack Blowfen, the two boys started off on a
gallop toward the river.

"Do you think we can do it?" asked Chet, anxiously.

"I think so. We can try, anyway."

Dismounting, the brothers made their way to where a deep ditch drained
from the ranch home under the stockade into the river. The ditch was
almost dry and was all but choked up with weeds and brush.

"Now, Chet, it is