What sent him down the hill in an uneven trot was a group of three that stood beside a car.

From their voices, and the gestures that were being made, here was a quarrel building rapidly into a fight.

To prove it the smallest person in the group suddenly whipped out a revolver and pointed it at the two.

Casey saw the reddening sunlight strike upon the barrel with a brief shine, instantly quenched when the gun was thrust forward toward the other two whom it threatened.
"You get out of my camp and out of my sight just as fast as your legs can take you.

This car belongs to me, and you're not going to touch it.