The Claim Jumpers

Bennington bowed coldly, but his immense relief flickered into his face

in spite of himself. "What should we do first?" he asked formally.

"Sit here and wait for the kids," responded Jim.

"Who are the kids?"

"Friends of mine--trustworthy."

Jim rearranged Bennington's coverings and lit a pipe. "Tell us about

it," said he.

"There isn't much to tell. I knew I had to do something, so I just held

them up and made them get down the shaft. I didn't know what I was

going to do next, but I was glad to have them out of the way to get

time to think."

"Who plugged you?" inquired Fay, motioning with the mouthpiece of his

pipe toward the wounded shoulder.

"That was Arthur. He had a little gun in his coat pocket and he shot

from inside the pocket. I'd made them drop all the guns they had, I

thought."

"Did you take a crack at him then?" asked Fay, interested.

"Oh, no. I just covered him and made him shell out. As a matter of fact

I don't believe any one of them knew I was hit."

Fay smoked on in silence, glancing from time to time with satisfaction

at the youth opposite. During the passage of these events the day had

not far advanced. The shadow of Harney had not yet reached out to the

edge of the hills.

"Hullo! The kids!" said Fay suddenly.

Two pedestrians emerged from the lower gulch and bent their steps

toward the camp. As they came nearer, Bennington, with a gasp of

surprise, recognised the Leslies.

The sprightly youths were dressed just alike, in knickerbockers and

Norfolk jackets of dark brown plaid, and small college caps to

match--an outfit which Bennington had always believed would attract too

vivid attention in this country. As they came nearer he saw that the

jackets were fitted with pockets of great size. In the pockets were

sketch books and bulging articles. They caught sight of the two figures

on the ore heap simultaneously.

"Behold our attentive host!" cried Jeems. "He is now in the act of

receiving us with all honour!"

Bennington's face fairly shone with pleasure at the encounter. "Hullo

fellows! Hullo there!" he cried out delightedly again and again, and

rose slowly to his feet. This disclosed the fact of his injury, and the

brothers ran forward, with real sympathy and concern expressed on their

lively countenances. There ensued a rapid fire of questions and

answers. The Leslies proved to be already familiar with the details of

the attempt to jump the claims, and understood at once Fay's brief

account of the present situation, over which they rejoiced in the

well-known Leslie fashion. They exploded in genuine admiration of

Bennington's adventure, and praised that young man enthusiastically.

Bennington could feel, even before this, that he stood on a different

footing than formerly with these self-reliant young men. They treated

him as familiarly as ever, but with a new respect. The truth is, their

astuteness in reading character, which is as essentially an attribute

of the artistic temperament in black and white as in words and phrases,

had shown them already that their old acquaintance had grown from boy

to man since last they had met. They knew this even before they learned

of its manifestation. So astounding was the change that they gave it

credit, perhaps, for being more thorough than it was. After the

situation had been made plain, Bennington reverted to the

unexpectedness of their appearance.