“So,” David went on calmly, and paying no heed to Uncle Bill’s anger, “I reckon it’ll have to be decided by the courts.”
“Courts be damned!” roared Old Harmless. “Let ’em try to take it away from me and drive me out of here. Me, that found this place first, before any other white man ever come here! That diskivered the diggin’s, and worked ’em, and saw this when she was a camp and——”
In vain the partners discussed the question with him. In vain they assured him that he could not fight the law with a rifle. In vain David told him that the sheriff was compelled, however reluctantly, to do his duty. And so at last, after a long silence, he said, “Well, Uncle Bill, if you’re bound to have a war, of course you’ll get the worst of it. First they’ll send sheriffs. Then if you fight all them off—never can tell!—why, Uncle Bill, I reckon they’ll call out the whole United States army, and bring cannons and rifles and batterin’-rams and all them things, and just naturally wipe you and the whole dinged valley off the map. But—just the same, whipped for sure before you start, bound to get shot all to smithereens, if you’ll do what Goliath and me tell you to do, we’ll be with you when it comes to a finish, won’t we, Goliath? We’ll just oil up our rifles and guns, Uncle Bill, and come right up here and fight with you.”
The old man gasped, and then tearfully seized and wrung their hands. He was speechless and helpless with gratitude. David let him subside and winked slyly at Goliath before he went on.
“But,” he said impressively, “there ain’t to be no shootin’ of any kind till the court’s had its say. Maybe that old leech Newport won’t do nothin’ at all, Uncle Bill.”
“Then—then—what’d you do if you was me?” queried Old Harmless bewildered.
“Do? I’d just keep right on workin’ as if nothin’ had happened. And if anybody comes around, let ’em alone, or tell ’em it’s your land, and they’re welcome to look at it. Tell ’em what nice trees you got, and let ’em hear you play the phonygraft, and if old Newport comes tell him you’re puttin’ it up to the court to say who owns this gulch, and that you’ll not have any truck with him till it does say, and that Goliath and me’s on your side, and goin’ to fight it clean through with you? Will you do that?”
They extracted a very reluctant promise from Old Harmless, but got it nevertheless, and devoted the remainder of the evening to restoring his peace of mind. Indeed, they scorned the idea that there was danger of his being ousted from that wonderful home of his, and at last left him in a more hopeful mood than they themselves enjoyed.
“What did you tell the poor old feller all that stuff for?” Goliath demanded, when they were well clear of the cabin on their homeward way.
“Deeplomacy, pardner!” David explained. “To keep him from killin’ somebody and—to give us time to think up some way of helpin’ him. Time’s what we need now. The sheriff told me that if it comes to court, a lot of things can happen. So you see, if it comes to law, and Hiram gets the title we’ve still got time to—wonder if me and you could buy him off?”