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Updated: June 22, 2025
Well, if your title's good you've got a good mine, but if it ain't you're out of luck. Now I sold this claim for five hundred dollars to Mr. Russell, that you met a while ago; and we think it belongs to him yet. I gave him a clear title and he's done his work, so " "Your title was no good!" contradicted Chatwourth from his rock pile, "you hadn't done your work for years.
Then they came down in a body, Chatwourth and Meacham and all the jumpers; but though his mine was left open Denver refrained from going near it, for their purpose was becoming very plain. But their plans went no further for he remained in retirement and the Miners' Meeting adjourned. Soon the street was deserted, except for their own numbers, and they returned to the mine with shrill whoops.
The same fate, the same destiny, which had fended off the bullet when Chatwourth had aimed at his heart, might turn the merest accident to the opposite purpose and make Drusilla his unwilling slayer. "Yes," he said, apropos of nothing, "you see now how I'm fixed. Don't dare to have any friends." "No, but Denver," she pouted, "you might say you were sorry that's different from being friends.
They had never been over-friendly so why should this Dutchman, after opposing him at every turn, suddenly beckon him up the street and into his cabin just as Chatwourth and his gang came down? And why, if he was innocent of any share in the plot, did Diffenderfer refuse to testify to the facts? Denver ground his teeth at the thought of his own impotence, shut up there like a dog in the pound.
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