Remember, we have women here."
"They can get away," returned one of the sullen-faced men with rifles.
"We won't hinder 'em. We'll give 'em two full minutes to get where
it's safe. Then we're going to turn our talking machines loose."
From the top of the low cliff came Tom Meade's drawling voice:
"Oh, I say, friends!"
Startled, all below glanced quickly upward.
"There seems to be trouble down there," Tom suggested.
"There sure is," nodded one of the armed men with the automobile
party.
"Now, it's too glorious a day to spoil it with fighting," Reade
went on. "Can't we arbitrate?"
"The first move for you, young man," warned one of the four men,
raising his rifle, "is to face about and git outer here."
"Not while there are women and children present who might get hurt,"
Tom dissented, with a shake of his head.
"Git, I tell you!" shouted the man, now aiming his rifle full at
Tom's chest. Git---before I count five."
"Save your cartridge," proposed Tom. "I'm too poor game, and
I'm not armed, either.
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