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Then he plunged through the smoke, swinging his arms out to clutch, and as he crashed through the barrier he stumbled over something that he turned back and pounced on like a cat. It was Chatwourth, but his body was limp and senseless the stone had struck him in the head.
They led Denver away as if he were a child, for the revulsion from his anger had left him weak; but Chatwourth, the killer, was carried back to town with his head lolling forward like a dead man's. The smash of the stone had caught him full on the forehead, which sloped back like the skull of a panther; and the blood, oozing down from his lacerated scalp, made him look more murderous than ever.
If you can show title to this ground you're holding, we'll leave you in peaceful possession; and if you can't, you're just wasting your time and talents, because there's plenty more claims that ain't took. It's a cinch you can't hide in that hole forever, so you might as well have it out now." "Well what d'ye want?" snarled Chatwourth irritably.
At first it was Chatwourth, to buy some tobacco and break in on the Miners' Meeting; and then Slogger Meacham, a huge mountain of a man, came ambling down the street. He slouched down on the store platform and leered about him evilly, but Denver had retreated to his cave under the cliff and the Slogger returned to the mine.
That man was Dave Chatwourth, nominally dismissed by Murray but undoubtedly still in his pay, and until they could devise some plan to eliminate him it was useless to talk of violence. So they resumed their meeting and, as Denver owned a claim, he found himself included in the membership.
But if Chatwourth understood the hidden taunt he did not respond to the challenge and Denver's mind reverted to H. Parkinson Dodge and his flattering offers for the mine. Ten thousand dollars cash, from a mining promoter, was indeed a princely sum; better by far than the offer of half a million shares that went with Bunker's option.
He had no recollection of even drawing his gun, to say nothing of striking at Meacham; and yet Chatwourth and his gang would swear him into prison if something was not done to stop them. They had come before the magistrate all agreeing to the same story that Denver had picked a fight with his old enemy, Meacham, and struck him over the head with his six-shooter.
I've located this claim and the man don't live " "That's all right!" spoke up Denver, "but I located it before you did. I didn't buy this claim. I paid for a quit-claim and then relocated it myself and my papers are on record in Moroni." "Who called you in on this?" burst out Chatwourth abusively, rising up with his gun poised to shoot. "Now you git, dam' your heart, and if you say another word "
In a way which was nothing short of miraculous Denver Russell had walked in on Murray's boss jumper and knocked him on the head with a rock and the shot which Chatwourth had fired in return had never so much as touched him. They put Chatwourth in an automobile and sent him over to Murray's camp; and then with broad smiles they gathered about Denver and took turns in slapping him on the back.
From the moment he had first met him, this narrow-eyed, sneering bad-man had roused all the hate that was in him; but now it had gone beyond instinct. He found him in adverse possession of his property and with a gun raised ready to shoot. "What are you doing here?" demanded Denver insolently but Chatwourth did not move.
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