Beth Norvell

He paused, his lips smiling pleasantly, and Burke stared at him, with

mouth wide open, his eyes mere black slits in the gloom. It was a full

minute before he regained control of his voice.

"Ye think Oi 'm a dommed fool?" he ejaculated, hoarsely.

"No; that is exactly what I do not think, Burke," and Winston smiled

again beneath his stern gray eyes. "That is precisely why I know you

will show me all I desire to see. A damn fool might possibly be

tempted to take chances with this gun, and get hurt, but you are smart

enough to understand that I 've got the drop all right, and that I mean

business--I mean business." These words were uttered slowly,

deliberately, and the foreman involuntarily dropped his lids as though

feeling them physically, the fingers of his uplifted hands clinching.

"What--what is it ye want to see?"

"That tunnel you 've got concealed by falsework."

Burke spat against the rock wall, the perspiration standing forth on

his forehead. But Irish pugnacity made him stubborn.

"Who tould ye that loie? Shure, an' it's not here ye 'll be apt to

foind the loikes o' that, me man."

Winston eyed him scornfully.

"You lie, Burke; I saw it with my own eyes just beyond that second turn

yonder. You cannot play with me, and the sooner you master that fact

the better. Now, you can take your choice--lead on as I order, and

keep your men away, or eat lead. It's one or the other within the next

sixty seconds. Turn around!"

No man in his senses would ever doubt the determined purpose lying

behind those few low-spoken, earnest words. Whoever this man might be,

whatever his purpose, he was assuredly not there in sport, and Burke

wheeled about as though some concealed spring controlled his action.

"Good," commented Winston, briefly. "You can lower your hands. Now,

walk straight forward, speaking only when I tell you, and never forget

there is a gun-barrel within two feet of your back. The slightest

movement of treachery, and, God helping me, Burke, I 'll turn loose

every cartridge into your body. I don 't want to do it, but I will."

They moved slowly forward along the deserted tunnel, not unlike two

convicts in lock-step. Burke sullenly growling, a burly, shapeless

figure under the light in his hat; Winston alert, silent, watchful for

treachery, the glimmer of the lamp full on his stern face. Their

shadows glided, ever changing in conformation, along the walls, their

footfalls resounding hollow from the echoing passage. There were no

words wasted in either command or explanation. Without doubt, the

foreman understood fairly well the purpose of this unknown invader; but

he realized, also, that the man had never lightly assumed such risk of

discovery, and he had lived long enough among desperate men to

comprehend all that a loaded gun meant when the eye behind was hard and

cool. The persuasive eloquence of "the drop" was amply sufficient to

enforce obedience. Farnham be hanged! He felt slight inclination at

that moment to die for the sake of Farnham. Winston, accustomed to

gauging men, easily comprehended this mental attitude of his prisoner,

his eyes smiling in appreciation of the other's promptness, although

his glance never once wavered, his guarding hand never fell. Burke was

safe enough now, yet he was not to be trifled with, not to be trusted

for an instant, in the playing out of so desperate a game. At the

angle the two halted, while the engineer cautiously reconnoitred the

dimly revealed regions in front. He could perceive but little evidence

of life, excepting the faint radiance of constantly moving lights down

Number One tunnel. Burke stood sullenly silent, venturing upon no

movement except under command.