Beth Norvell

"Anybody down that other entry?"

The foreman shook his head, without glancing around, his jaws moving

steadily on the tobacco that swelled his cheek.

"Then lead on down it."

Winston stretched forth his unused left hand as they proceeded, his

fingers gliding along the wall, his observant eyes wandering slightly

from off the broad back of his prisoner toward the sides and roof of

the tunnel. To his experience it was at once plainly evident this

preliminary cutting had been made through solid rock, not in the

following of any seam, but crossways. Here alone was disclosed

evidence in plenty of deliberate purpose, of skilfully planned

depredation. He halted Burke, with one hand gripping his shoulder.

"Are you people following an ore-lead back yonder?" he asked sharply.

The Irishman squirmed, glancing back at his questioner. He saw nothing

in that face to yield any encouragement to deceit.

"Sure," he returned gruffly, "we're follyin' it all down that Number

Wan."

"What 's the nature of the ore body?"

"A bit low grade, wid a thrifle of copper, an' the vein is n't overly

tick."

"How far have you had to cut across here before striking color?"

"'Bout thirty fate o' rock work."

"Hike on, you thief," commanded the engineer, his jaw setting

threateningly.

It proved a decidedly crooked passage, the top uneven in height,

clearly indicating numerous faults in the vein, although none of these

were sufficiently serious to necessitate the solution of any difficult

mining problem. In spite of the turns the general direction could be

ascertained easily. The walls were apparently of some soft stone,

somewhat disintegrated by the introduction of air, and the engineer

quickly comprehended that pick and lever alone had been required to

dislodge the interlying vein of ore. At the extreme end of this tunnel

the pile of broken rock lying scattered about clearly proclaimed recent

labor, although no discarded mining tools were visible. Winston

examined the exposed ore-vein, now clearly revealed by Burke's

flickering lamp, and dropped a few detached specimens into his pocket.

Then he sat down on an outcropping stone, the revolver still gleaming

within his fingers, and ordered the sullen foreman to a similar seat

opposite. The yellow rays of the light sparkled brilliantly from off

the outcropping mass, and flung its radiance across the faces of the

two men. For a moment the silence was so intense they could hear water

drip somewhere afar off.

"Burke," asked the engineer suddenly, "how long have you fellows been

in here?"

The uneasy Irishman shifted his quid, apparently considering whether to

speak the truth or take the chances of a lie. Something within

Winston's face must have decided him against the suggested falsehood.

"Well, sorr, Oi 've only been boss over this gang for a matter o' three

months," he said slowly, "an' they was well into this vein be then."