She paused, looking slowly around the room.
"I have requested an investigation into the stealing o f gold, and also as to the identity of those who have bee n receiving the stolen goods." There was a stir o f apprehension in the room, but she added, "However , I have no wish to bring trouble to anybody else i f I can convict those responsible and recover m y gold."
"That's fair," Townsend said.
"Prosecutin' is one thing," Hayes said , "convictin' is another. Anyway, who is goin' t o be the one to roust that outfit out of here?"
"If he is told to do it by the townspeople , and if he has support, I think Wilso n Hoyt will do it."
"He'll try," Townsend agreed.
"He's only one man," Hayes said , "only one man against that bunch of fighters Be n Stowe has imported. Why, half of those miner s are no more miners than you or me. They'r e pistol-men from Texas or wherever."
"Gentlemen," Clagg said dryly, "if w e vote to act now, I shall myself walk beside Hoyt."
They looked at him in surprise, all bu t Townsend. "I run a saloon, and the money ha s been good. All the same, I've known it was th e wrong way to run a town. Doc, when you walk ou t there with Hoyt, I'll be right alongside of you."
"Good," Clagg said. "I had an idea that's where you'd be, Billy."
"And me too," Fields said. "I haven't shot a rifle since the War Between the States, bu t I've got a mighty good shotgun."
Tom Hayes got up quickly. "You're a pack of fools!" he exclaimed angrily.
"I'll have nothing to do with this."
At the back of the room two others ros e quickly and ducked out the door.
Hayes hesitated, as if wanting to sa y something more. "You can't ride the fence, Tom,"
Townsend said quietly. "We called you i n to give you your chance."
"Chance! Why you ain't got no chance at all.
The minute Ben Stowe hears about this you'll all b e riding for a slab on Boot Hill!"
Billy Townsend was smiling a little. "Are yo u going to tell him, Tom?"
Hayes flushed angrily. "No, I ain't!
And don't come blamin' me if he hears of it!"
He went out the door and closed it quickl y after him.
For a moment there was silence, and then Pet e Hillaby stood up. "You can count me in , Doc. I'll stand with you."
In the end, there were nine men left. Docto r Rupert Clagg glanced from one to another. "Al l right, boys. From this moment we go armed, and no on e of us is to be alone. You'll get the word fro m Billy here, and we'll all meet at hi s place. In the meantime I'll have a talk wit h Wilson Hoyt."
When all of them had left, Dr. Clag g turned to Laine. "Well, we've made a start, and I believe we'll carry it off."
"With only nine men?" Laine was frightened.
"Rupert, we've got to get word to Mik e Shevlin before anything happens."
"He's a tough man--we could use him,"
Clagg agreed. He hesitated. "I'l l ride out and get him."
"No," Laine protested. "You stay here.
If you ride out there everyone will know something i s happening. I'll go get him."
And at last he agreed, for there was much to do i n Rafter, and very little time.
Laine Tennison rode her dapple-gra y mare out of town toward Parry's claim, followin g only a few minutes behind Ben Stowe. Sh e rode swiftly, keeping in mind the location o f Parry's claim, for the mining maps of the area that sh e had studied for hours were clearly fixed in he r memory. The trail to the claim was round about , although the actual distance, as the crow flies, was quit e short.
Finally she turned into the narrow canyon. It wa s not hard to recognize the mountain in which the tw o mines were located, and she knew at once the mout h of the discovery tunnel when she saw it. Though th e tunnel had not been used, it was clearl y indicated on her maps.
As she rode up to the claim, the first thing sh e saw was Ben Stowe's horse. Stowe was nowhere i n sight, and neither was Burt Parry or Mik e Shevlin.
Laine stood very still and looked across the canyon.
There was the dump at the discovery claim. And the n she suddenly knew where they were.
She went to her saddlebag and got her pistol.
Chapter 15
When he was well within the tunnel, Mik e Shevlin paused to light his candle, then placed i t in the holder on his cap. Although he had worke d underground, he had never cared much for it; and h e hesitated now, knowing the traps that might lie befor e him.
As he went forward, he counted his steps, and whe n he had gone fifty paces into the tunnel h e paused to listen, but there was no sound. He tilte d his head back, letting the light play on th e rock overhead. It looked solid. The chances wer e that if this place was in use at all, somebody wa s barring down to prevent loose rock from falling.
He walked on a little further, and an ever s o slight bend in the drift cut him off from the spo t of light that was the mouth of the tunnel. Suddenly h e saw the ladder of a manway, and beyond it the end of th e drift. The ladder led upward into the darkness.
Again he listened.
There was no sound but the slow drip of water nea r the end of the drift. He turned and started up th e ladder.
Then he thought he heard the sound of a single-jack, somewhere far off, but the sound cease d almost at once and he was not sure about it. He paused again, looking up the ladder, remembering ho w Laine's investigator had been caught in just suc h a place by falling drills. The long stee l shafts must have gone clear through him ... it was a n unpleasant thought.
Suddenly he saw the opening of a drift on hi s left. The ladder continued on upward, but h e stepped off and stood on the platform at the li p of the manway. He listened, but could hear nothing; t hen, squatting on his heels, he studied th e planks of the platform. The dust was thick, an d undisturbed. Obviously this area was unworked , yet the flame of his candle indicated a sligh t movement of air. Somewhere down that tunnel there wa s an opening, either from the drift he was in, or from a connecting one.
He felt nervous and jumpy. This was differen t from facing a man with a gun in the open air. Here i t was dark and still, a place where a man without a ligh t would be helpless. For anyone who had never worke d underground it was always a shock to realize the complet e absence of light, the utter blackness, deep in a mine or a cave. There is no such thing as th e eyes growing accustomed to absolut e darkness ... there one is completely blind.
Anyone he might meet down here would have th e advantage of knowing the mine--he would know ever y manway, every cross-cut, raise, or winze.
He would know where to go and how to get there. Mike, a stranger to the mine, might find himself in an ol d stope or a waste-fill from which there was n o escape.
He turned back to the ladder and bega n climbing, but he paused after only a few steps.
He was perspiring profusely, and he knew it wa s not from heat--it was from fear.
Mike Shevlin had known fear before: only a man who was a fool could say that he had never bee n afraid. On that manway Shevlin would be almos t helpless if someone decided to do to him what they ha d done to the other investigator. And nobody coul d prove it was anything but an accident.
He had climbed only fifty feet when h e heard voices, and far above him he saw a fain t glimmer of light. Someone was coming toward him.
To go back down was impossible in the time h e had, but right above him, on his left, anothe r drift opening showed, black and empty. With quic k steps he was up the ladder and into the dark opening.
He had an instant, no more, in which to see that h e stood on a "station" about twenty feet across; o pposite him the drift disappeared into the depth s of the mountain.
There was no time to hesitate, for already he coul d hear feet on the ladder. He took off his ca p and pinched out the light. And then, in absolut e blackness, he tip-toed across to the tunnel. He missed the opening by a few feet, but he found it an d had only just got inside when he saw the glimme r of
light nearing the station he had just abandoned.
Feeling his way along the wall of the drift , he worked his way deeper into the mine, hoping for a cross-cut that would enable him to get out of sight.
The men on the ladder might go on down, but if the y stopped he was in trouble.
They stopped.
Flattened against the wall of the drift, h e waited. He could hear the murmur of voices, an d in another moment a man came into sight---a stocky, powerful-looking man lighting a pipe.
The second man followed. Neither man seeme d to be armed with anything but a pick-handle, though that wa s quite enough in case of a hand-to-hand fight in the mine.
At first Shevlin could hear onl y snatches of their conversation. Obviously, they ha d stopped off on the station to have a smoke ... but wha t would they do when they finished that? Would they come alon g the drift toward him? h is... jumpy. I tell you, Also, I don't like the looks of it. You been down to the Nevad a House since? Or the Blue Horn?"
Shevlin could not distinguish the words of the other man , but the first one spoke again. "Well, I was dow n there, and there wasn't nobody around. That's a ba d sign. I tell you, I can smel l vigilantes. I seen this happen before. You ca n raise all the hell you want, rob a man, o r even kill one, and nobody says much; but yo u bother a woman or do one any harm, and folk s change."
There was another indistinguishable comment, and then: "You may not be worried, but I am. And I a in't the only one. The boss is worried , too. You watched him lately? He's jumpy a s a cat."
Presently they returned to the manway and wen t on down. Shevlin waited for them to be wel l away, then he struck a match and lighted hi s cap-lamp.
He walked on along the drift, passin g several cross-cuts, and once a bank of fou r ore chutes, thick with dust and long unused.
His uneasiness increased with every step. He kne w he was walking into trouble, and the last thing he wante d was trouble underground. In such a place it was alway s risky to use a gun, for the concussion might brin g down some rock, especially in a long-worked area.
It seemed obvious that the two men were guard s following a regular patrol, and they migh t appear again at any time.
He had never seen a working plan of the mine, an d had no idea how extensive the workings were. Ther e was now a continual drip of water, and here and there wer e shallow pools.
Suddenly he came to a cross-cut. A fe w feet in, on one side, was a heavy plan k door, which he found was locked.
This could be a powder room, but he had never see n one built with such care. The heavy planks ha d been set back into the rock on either side an d strengthened by huge twelve-by-twelve posts.
He took hold of the handle of the door, but it was s o solid that it could neither be moved nor shaken. And i t was fitted so snugly that it offered n o place for a bar or wedge. His guess was that th e planks were three-by-twelves--and short of a battering ram or dynamite, such a door could no t be forced. Half an hour's work with a good ax e might do the job--but even so, there might be a guard posted somewhere on the other side of the door.
This then, had to be the opening into the area from which the y were mining the high-grade ore.
The cross-cut beyond the drift on the othe r side was half filled with waste. The main drif t led on into the mountain, and he surmised he was almos t halfway through to the side toward Rafte r Crossing.
Thoughtfully, Shevlin studied the rock in which th e door was framed, but it appeared to be as solid a s the mountain of which it was a part. He stood there a moment, reluctant to give up, and attempte d to visualize his present position in terms of th e two mine shafts. But a man's movemen t underground can be deceptive, and he could not b e sure.
As he hesitated, he felt a growing sens e of uneasiness, a disturbing feeling that he wa s watched. Was there a peekhole, somehow disguised , in the door itself? He shrugged and turned away, hi s cap-lamp throwing a feeble glow around him.
He walked back to the main drift and stoppe d there, wondering if he dared go deeper into the mine.
At the same time, from the corner of his eye, h e glimpsed something that sent a chill through him.
On top of the piled-up waste rock in the othe r side of the cross-cut was a rifle muzzle, an d he had no doubt at all that somebody lay behin d it, ready to shoot if necessary.
An interesting gleam from the wall of the drif t caught his eye, and he stepped over to it, making a pretense of studying the rock. He knocked of f a corner with the prospector's pick he carrie d in his belt and examined it in the light from hi s cap-lamp. As he studied it, he tried to thin k what it was best to do.
The obvious thing to do was to turn and walk bac k down the drift the way he had come. If he di d so, his presence might be passed off as a harmles s exploring of an old mine-working. Under th e circumstances it was highly improbable, but it jus t might work. On the other hand, would the hidden watche r allow him to go? Might he not shoot at an y moment?
Shevlin started to turn away when h e heard, from down the drift, along the way he himsel f had come, the sound of boots. Someone was coming towar d him, someone who could be no great distance away.
Quickly, Shevlin turned and went up the drif t toward the main working of the mine, and he had gone n o more than fifty feet before he came to another ro w of four ore chutes and a manway.
There was only time to observe that the dust on th e ladder was undisturbed, and then he was climbing , swiftly and silently. Not thirty feet above , he entered a stope where the ore had been mined out an d shot down from overhead. Crawling over th e heaped-up rock, he crouched down in a smal l hollow and waited, listening.
The place where he had chosen to hide was right a t the top of an empty chute where his slightes t movement might be heard below, but where he himself coul d hear what went on down there. He heard th e distant footsteps, then came a pause.
Watching over the rim of the chute, his own ligh t placed on the muck well behind him, he saw th e faint movement of the walker's light, but he hear d no voices.
What of the man behind the gun? Was he equall y unknown to whoever had come along the tunnel?
Suddenly, he heard a faint gasp, and then th e rustle of clothing. Someone whose feet and legs h e could see, scurried past the chute and stepped into th e space between that chute and the next. Shevlin could hea r again the rustle of denim against the framework of th e chute. And then, very faintly, he heard still othe r steps.
This was impossible, and yet it was happening.
Three men were now in hiding in the old mine-workin g all within a few yards of the great plank door!
The new steps came on, hesitated, the n continued on again. They, too, paused when the y faced that solidly framed door. Breathing ever s o faintly, Shevlin watched over the edge of th e chute, watched the reflection of distant light; i n a moment whoever it was who held the light came o n up the drift that ran past the chutes.
Suddenly, the man below stirred, and steppe d quickly out into the tunnel.
"Well, now. Fancy seein' you here!" That wa s Ben Stowe's voice. "A mine is no plac e for a lady. Would you mind tellin' me what you'r e lookin' for?"
"Oh! You frightened me. Aren't you Be n Stowe?" It was Laine Tennison wh o spoke. "I've never been in a mine before--there's so much I'd like to know, and I don't believ e Dr. Clagg would have the time to show me around. Woul d you tell me about the mine, Mr. Stowe? Fo r instance, what are these things?"
She craned her neck and looked up the chute , and there was an instant when Mike Shevlin was sur e she had seen him, just an instant before he pulled hi s head back.
"That's an ore chute," Stowe answered. "Th e rock is shot down off the walls and roof up ther e in the stope, and then pulled out of that chute into a ca r and trammed--pushed--outside."
His boots shifted on the rock below.
"Ma'am," he went on, "what are you doing in thi s mine? What's your business here?"
"Business? Oh, I've no business here , Mr.
Stowe. I just saw the tunnel and though t I'd look in. Do they mine gold here? Or is it silver? I don't know very much about mining , I'm afraid, but it all looks very exciting."
"How do you happen to be out here, anyway?"
"Here? Oh, you mean in the canyon? I wa s looking for Mr. Shevlin. Dr. Clagg wante d to see him; and Mrs. Clagg and I ... well , we thought we would invite him for supper. He's ver y good-looking--don't you think so, Mr. Stowe?"
"I never noticed." Ben Stowe was obviousl y puzzled, and Shevlin could scarcely restrain a chuckle. She was trying, trying hard, but would i t work? Would she appear so much the rattle-braine d female that Stowe would let her go?
"You're very handsome yourself, Mr. Stowe. Would yo u like to come to supper? It's nothing fancy. I mean , well, after all it's just supper, not a dinner o r anything fancy. So you'd have to take potluck, bu t I do so admire western men, and I don't kno w if I'll find Mr. Shevlin, but even if I d o, you're welcome. In fact, we'd simpl y adore having you."
Stowe started to speak, but she gave him n o chance. "Why, just the other day Dottie was saying--Dottie, that's Mrs. Clagg--that she couldn't understand why some girl hadn't set her cap for you.
You're so successful and all."
"Ma'am, where'd you get that candle?" was Be n Stowe's response. "Looks to me like you cam e fixed for looking at mines."
"Oh, this? I found it in that cabin there , Burt Parry's cabin. I didn't think he'd mind if I--you don't think he'd mind do you, Mr. Stowe? I mean, I jus t borrowed it. I'll put it right back where I f ound it." She paused only a moment.
"Mr. Stowe ... or may I call you Ben?
Would you take me back to town? I mean, it mus t be getting dark outside, and if you would take m e home I'd be ever so glad ... I mean, i t wouldn't be too much trouble, would it?"
"No, no trouble," Stowe answered.
Mike Shevlin, crouching, his legs cramped an d aching, heard their footsteps retreating down th e drift. He waited for what he felt was a safe time, and then, with great care to make no sound , he straightened up, took up his cap, and walke d to the manway. All was dark and still down below.
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