“Looks ter me like we’d managed ter drop into a mighty bad hole, an’ was up agin the real thing,” he began gloomily, yet hastening to add in explanation, “not as I have any notion o’ cavin’, you onderstand, only I ain’t overly pleased with the situation, an’ thet ’s a fact.  I never yit objected in particular ter no fair fight, not o’ any kind, free fer all, or stan’ up, but I ain’t used ter buckin’ agin the law nohow, an’ someway thet seems ter be ’bout what we ’re up agin this trip.  Beats hell the way things turned out, don’t it?”

Winston nodded without opening his lips.  He was thinking more earnestly about Miss Norvell’s unpleasant position than of their own, yet compelled himself to attention.

“Now, this yere Farnham is a gambler an’ a thief; he ’s all round crooked, an’ we ’ve got a cinch on him fer the penitentiary.  But we ain’t got the right holt,” the old miner continued, squinting his eyes as if thus endeavoring to get the thought firmly lodged in his brain.  “He ‘s ben made a deputy sheriff.  He kin turn that crowd o’ toughs over thar into a posse, an’ come over here with the whole law o’ the State backin’ them in any deviltry they decide on, even ter killin’ off the lot o’ us for resistin’ officers.  Es Sam Hayes said, if we shoot, we ‘ll be a-shootin’ up Gulpin County.  An’ yet, by thunder, we ’ve plumb got ter do it, er git off the earth.  I jest don’t see no other way.  Biff, he won’t care a damn how he gits us, so he gits us afore we have any chance ter turn the tables on him, an’ shift the law over ter our side.  Hayes can’t help any, fer he ‘s out o’ his head.  Consequent, it’s up ter us.  Thet warrant business, an’ deputy sheriff racket, was a blame smart trick, all right.  It would ‘a’ corralled us good an’ proper if thet fool Swede had n’t run amuck.  Not that he left us in no bed o’ roses, but, at least, we got a fightin’ chance now, an’ afore we did n’t have even that.  I was inclined ter let yer surrender to the sheriff, fer Sam Hayes is a squar’ man, but not ter Farnham an’ his gang—­not much, Mary Ann!  Thet would mean lynchin’, an’ I know it.  So, I reckon we jest got to plug it out, an’ trust ter luck.  Thet ’s my view-point, but ye ’re a more higher edycated man ner me, Mr. Winston, an’ maybe you kin see some other way out.”

The old man sat down on an outcropping stone, pulled out his pipe and lit it, puffing thick rings of smoke into the air with manifest enjoyment.  Winston did not answer until the other again turned his eyes upon him questioningly.

“I was busy thinking,” explained the engineer, “but must confess the situation looks about as bad to me as it does to you.  The silver lining of this cloud is not apparent.  Of course, we ’ve got the right of it, but in some way Fate has managed to leave us set square against the law.  We ’re outlaws without having done a thing to warrant it.  There is n’t but one possible way out, and that is for us to get on the right side