“No, you won’t, Dick Marston, don’t you make any mistake,” says the young bull-pup, looking nasty. “I’m as good a man as you, with this little tool.” Here he pulled out his revolver. “I’ve as much right to turn out as you have. What odds is it to you what I do?” I looked rather foolish at this, and Moran and Burke began to laugh.

“You’d better set up a night-school, Dick,” says Burke, “and get Billy and some of the other flash kiddies to come. They might turn over a new leaf in time.”

“If you’ll stand up, or Moran there, that’s grinning behind you, I’ll make some of ye laugh on the wrong side,” I said.

“Come on,” drawls Moran, taking off his coat, and walking up; “I’d like to have a smack at you before you go into the Church.” We should have been at it hammer and tongs—we both hated one another like poison—only the others interfered, and Billy said we ought to be ashamed of ourselves for quarrelling like schoolboys. We were nice sort of chaps to stick up a gold escort. That made a laugh, and we knocked off.

Well, it looked as if no one wanted to speak. Then Hulbert, a very quiet chap, says, “I believe Ben Marston’s the oldest man here; let’s hear what he’s got to say.”

Father gets up at once. and looks steady at the rest of ‘em, takes his pipe out of his mouth, and shakes the baccy out. Then he says:

“All on ye knows without my telling what we’ve come here about, and what there’s hangin’ to it. It’s good enough if it’s done to rights; but make no mistake, boys, it’s a battle as must be fought game, and right back to the ropes, or not at all. If there’s a bird here that won’t stand the steel he’d better be put in a bag and took home again.”

“Never mind about the steel, daddy,” says one of the new men. “We’re all good for a flutter when the wager’s good. What’ll it be worth a man, and where are we going to divide? We know your mob’s got some crib up in the mountains that no one knows about. We don’t want the swag took there and planted. It mightn’t be found easy.”

“Did ever a one of ye heer tell o’ me actin’ crooked?” says father. “Look here, Bill, I’m not as young as I was, but you stand up to me for three rounds and I’ll take some of the cheek out of yer.”

Bill laughed.