"Who is it down there?"
It's Mr. Tuthill and those others. Ira Bigelow and Tom. That man named Boyd and two others I don't know. One of them they call Ben."
Ben obes?
"They made me bring them, Tell. They threatened me. Besides . . . you hadn't come back and I was afraid."
It was growing colder. The clouds were breaking and the wind was mounting. It was slow going because of the ice beneath the snow. At the top of the trail, I got out of the snowshoes and tied them on Ange.
I thought back to the men who by now were making their way up the trail. There were six men down there, and they wanted the gold; but most of all, they wanted to kill me. Under the circumstances, they must kill Ange, too.
"Who knows you came with them?"
"Nobody does. Mr. Tuthill heard us talking, and he must have known about the gold already. But from what I said to you, he could tell that I knew about it too. He came to my cabin and offered to become my partner and get all the gold for us. I refused.
"He went away, and then when it was dark he came back with those other men. He told me to get dressed, and to dress warmly. He said he would kill me if I didn't... and he meant it.
"I had no idea what he intended to do until we were outside. And then I found out what had happened. They tried to follow you, and you got away from them, so they came back after me.
The only way I knew was back the way we came out, and I was not very sure of that. When we got in the mountains it was turning colder and the rain was falling. We got to the cave, and by that time, they were half-frozen and arguing among themselves.
"Boyd stayed on watch, but he fell asleep and I slipped out. I knew you were up here somewhere."
We struggled through the snow, with her talking fast, nervous and scared. "Tell, they mean to kill you. I was wrong. Tell! I didn't understand what kind of men they were!"
The fire was down to the merest coals when we got to the cave. From my stacked fuel I built up the fire to warm the place, and put some snow on to melt for coffee water.
When I looked up from the fire, Ange was standing there looking at me. "Tell, I'm sorry. I didn't understand."
"What could you think? I just up and shot those men. Of course, they were hunting it. They figured to kill me. I'm sorry you had to see it."
* I walked to the opening and looked out. The
sky was bright, the air was sharp with cold, but
was no sign of Tuthill and the others. "Back east," I said, "folks still have duels now again, only they arrange them . . . everything out pretty and conducted like a ceremony, difference is that out here we don't bother fixing it up proper. Back where most everyone is known, it's different. Out here most of us are strangers and nobody knows if the man he has A difficulty with is a gentleman, or not. So he just ups and shoots."
"That's what Joe told me. I ... I wouldn't listen at first. It seemed so ... so brutal." "Yes, ma'am. It is brutal. Only I never could see sense in having folks look at your tombstone and say, "He was a man who didn't believe in violence. He's a good man... and dead.'"
I paused, peering at the trees opposite. "No, Ange, if the folks who believe in law, justice, and a decent life for folks are to be shot down by those who believe in violence, nothing makes much sense. I believe in justice, I believe in being tolerating of other folks, but I pack a big pistol, ma'am, and will use it when needed."
There was no sign of those men yet. Either they were having trouble on the trail, or they were In-juning up on me and would settle down to shooting most any time. The snow and ice had covered the piles of waste rock thrown out of the tunnel so it wasn't likely they would guess first off that this was where the mine was.
Ange saw my Blackstone and picked it up. "Are you studying this?" She looked up at me curiously.
"Yes, ma'am. It's books like that which make a man proud of being a man."
"Are you going to be a lawyer?"
"No ... my brother Orrin made himself into one, but Orrin always was a talker. He had the gift, the Welsh tongue. I don't have any gift, ma'am, I'm just a man tries to do the right thing as well as he knows. Only, the way I figure, no man has the right to be ignorant. In a country like this, ignorance is a crime. If a man is going to vote, if he's going to take part in his country and its government, then it's up to him to understand.
"I had no schooling, ma'am, so I'm making out with this book and a few others. Some day"--I felt myself getting red around the gills--"I hope to have children and they'll have schooling, and I don't aim they should be ashamed of their Pa."
"How could they be?" Ange demanded. "You're good, you're brave, and--"
"Here they come," I said, and settled down behind the woodpile.
We could hear their boots crunching through the snow. There were five of them. Tuthill I recognized at once, and the two men beside him were probably the Bigelows. Will Boyd looked done up from the climbing and the cold. Behind him was Ben Hobes. The only one missing was that white-haired youngster with the guns.
I watched them come, chewing on a bit of stick, my Winchester in my hands. They were playing the fool, for at that distance...
"Come on out, Sackett! We want to talk."
"I can hear you."
"Come on out here."
"And leave this warm fire? I'm comfortable."
They started arguing among themselves. Then Tuthill started toward the cave, so I put a bullet into the snow at his feet and he stopped so quick he almost fell.
"You boys have got bigger problems than me," I commented, conversationally. "A sight of snow fell since you came into the mountains. How do you plan to get out?"
"Look here, Sackett," Tuthill said, "we know you're sitting on a rich claim. Well, all we want is a piece of it. Why be foolish? There's enough for us
"Why share it? I've got it, and all you boys have
a chance to die in the snow." I eased my position a little. Tuthill, you don't to understand. When you came in here you came into a trap. The passes are closed, and we're all going to spend the winter. I hope you brought grub for five or six months."
"If you don't come out, Sackett," Tuthill threatened, "we're coming in." "If I shoot again, Tuthill, I'll shoot to kill." It was cold. Knowing this kind of country as I did, I knew what we could expect. It had cleared It was cold now--at least ten below. In a few it might drop to fifty below.
"Ben," I called, "you're no pilgrim. Tell them how cold it can get at ten or eleven thousand feet on a still night. We are all stuck for the winter, and you might as well get used to the idea.
You're going to need shelter, fuel, and food. The game won't stay this high, it will all head for lower ground. If you make a run for it, you might still get out."
The pile of fire-wood covered half the tunnel mouth to a height of more than four feet, and made a crude windbreak and shelter from gunfire. The tunnel, in following the vein, had taken a slight bend--enough to shelter one person--and I whispered to Ange to get back behind it.
While partly open, the walls of rock acted as reflectors and threw heat back upon us. Moreover, in our struggle to live, I would have three priceless assets not available to them--the pick, shovel, and axe.
They had come to take a mine away from me. I had come to work the mine.
I knew there were at least two things they could do that would be terribly dangerous to us. They could direct a heavy fire at the walls and roof of the tunnel, causing the bullets to ricochet within the small space. Such bullets tear like the jagged pieces of hot metal they are.
And they could kill the horses.
Killing them in the tunnel mouth could obscure our vision, and might even block escape. It might be they were doomed to die anyway, but I was going to get them out if I could.
Somewhere up on the slope a tree branch cracked in the cold. It was very still ... an icy stillness.
Boyd stamped his feet and complained. Boyd would be the first to go. He simply hadn't the guts for the long pull. Of them all, Ben Hobes was the one to last.