of the walled yard and into the prison fields where there were cattle
and growing crops; and they came back fresh and earthy, after hours of
honest toil with no one to watch or guard them. It was the honor system
which he had read about for years, but now he saw it working; and after
a week he sent word to the Warden that he would give his word not to
escape. That was all they asked of him, his word as a man; and a great
hope came over him and soothed the deep wound that the merciless law had
torn. He raised his head, that had been bowed on his breast, and the
strength came back into his limbs; and when the Warden saw him with a
sledge-hammer in his hands he smiled and sent him up to the road-camp.

CHAPTER XXVII

LIKE A HOG ON ICE

A month had wrought great changes in the life of Denver Russell, raising
him up from a prisoner, locked up like a mad dog, to the boss of a gang
of road-makers. He was free again, as far as bolts and bars were
concerned; all that kept him to his place was the word he had given and
his pride as an honest man. And now he was out, doing an honest man's
work and building a highway for the state; and by the irony of fate the
road he was improving was the one that led to Pinal. For time had
wrought other changes while he lay in prison and the rough road up the
canyon was swarming with traffic going and coming from Murray's camp. It
was called "Murray" now, and a narrow-gauge railroad was being rushed to
haul out the ore. Teams and motor trucks swung by, hauling in timbers
and machinery, auto stages came and went like the wind; and old Mike
McGraw, who had hauled all the freight for years, looked on in wonder
and awe.

Yes, Murray was a live camp, a copper camp with millions of dollars
behind it; and Bible-Back himself was a king indeed, for he had tapped
the rich body of ore. It was his courage and aggressiveness that had
made the camp, and the papers all sounded his praise; but still he was
not satisfied and as he passed by Denver Russell he glanced at him
almost appealingly. Here was a man he had broken in order to get his
way, and his efforts had come to nothing; for the Silver Treasure lay
idle, waiting the clearing of its title before the work could go on. And
Denver Russell, swinging his double-jack on a drill, never once returned
the glance. He was stiff-necked and stubborn, though Murray had sent
intermediaries and practically promised to get him a parole.

A legal point had c