ent, and Ferrers's, we'll name it the Ambition
Mine. That's just what the mine stands for with us, you know."

"The best name in the world," Harry declared.

"And now, young man," said Dr. Scott, addressing Hazelton, "I
want you to rest quietly while Tim Walsh sponges you off and the
cook is busy making some thin gruel for you. Reade, in order
to get you out of here I'll agree to go down in your mine with you."

Dr. Scott proved more than an interested spectator when he reached
the tunnel. He possessed considerable knowledge of ores.

"Yes; you have your bonanza here, Reade," declared the physician.
"Almost any ambition that money will gratify will soon be yours.
From the very appearance of this newly-opened vein I don't believe
it is one that will give out in a hurry."

"By the way, Doe," called Ferrers, joining them, "here's that
nugget that you wouldn't take when I offered it to you in Dugout.
You've made your visit, and now the nugget is yours."

"I don't want it," smiled Dr. Scott. "I want real money, in place
of the nugget, and I'll be content to wait for it. The owners
of this mine will be welcome to run up a very considerable bill
with me."

"Then can you stay a few days?" queried Tom eagerly. "Until good
old Harry is wholly out of danger."

"Yes; I'll stay a few days, if you wish it, Mr. Reade."

Finally Jim had the presence of mind to pilot the physician to
the cook shack.

Quietly enough the officers from Dugout had reentered camp. With
them they had borne one long, covered object---the remains of
Dolph Gage, who had been shot and killed while resisting arrest.
Gage's two remaining companions had been brought in, handcuffed.
These expert sheriff's officers from Dugout had been able to
find a trail, even on the hard-frozen snow crust, and had tracked
the criminals directly to their cave.

Jim Ferrers went over to where the body of Gage lay on the snow.
Gently he turned down the cloth that covered the dead man's face.
For a few moments Ferrers gazed at the still face; then, awkwardly,
after hesitating, he lifted his hat from his head.

"That man killed your brother, Jim," murmured Tom, stepping up
to his Nevada partner. "You had other reasons for hating him.
In the old days you would have run Dolph Gage down and killed
him yourself. In these newer days you have left Gage to the hands
of the law. It is a much better way, and you will never even have
to wonder whether you have done any w