in' on this yere trail?"

Mercedes released the pony's bit, and leaned eagerly forward.

"Vas dat you, Beell Heeks?" she questioned, doubtfully.

The man swore, the butt of his quickly lowered rifle striking sharply
against the rock at his feet.

"I 'm damned if it ain't that Mexican agin," he exclaimed, angrily.
"Now, you get out o' yere; you hear me? I 'm blamed if I kin shoot at
no female, but you got in one measly spyin' job on this outfit, an' I
'll not put up with another if I have ter pitch ye out inter the
canyon. So you git plum out o' yere, an' tell yer friend Farnham he
better take more care o' his females, or some of 'em are liable ter get
hurt."

There was the harsh crunch of a footstep in the darkness, another
figure suddenly slid down the smooth surface of rock, dropping almost
at the pony's head. The animal shied with a quick leap, but a heavy
hand held him captive.

"Y-you sh-sh-shut up, B-Bill," and the huge form of Stutter Brown
loomed up directly between them, and that menacing rifle. "I-I reckon
as how I'll t-t-take a h-hand in this yere g-g-game. Sh-she ain't no
s-spy fer Farnham, er I 'm a l-l-liar." He touched her softly with his
great hand, bending down to look into her face, half hidden beneath the
ruffled black hair. "C-come, little g-g-girl, what's up?"

She made no response, her lips faltering as though suddenly stricken
dumb. Beth Norvell dropped down from the pony's back, and stood with
one hand resting on Mercedes' shoulder.

"She only came to show me the way," she explained bravely. "I-I have a
most important message for Mr. Winston. Where is he?"

"Important, d-did you s-s-say?"

"Yes, its delivery means life or death--for Heaven's sake, take me to
him!"

For a single breathless moment Brown hesitated, his eyes on the girl's
upturned face, evidently questioning her real purpose.

"I c-can't right n-now, Miss," he finally acknowledged, gravely;
"that's s-straight; fer ye s-s-see, he 's down the 'I-I-Independence'
shaft."

CHAPTER XIV

UNDERGROUND

It was a daring ruse that had taken Ned Winston down the shaft of the
"Independence" mine with the midnight shift. Not even the professional
enthusiasm of a young engineer could serve to justify so vast a risk,
but somehow this battle of right and wrong had become a personal
struggle between himself and Farnham; he felt, without understanding
clearly why, that the real stake involved was well worth the ventu