d them go and felt reasonably sure of at least two
hours to himself.

The first thing Casey did after he had made sure that he was actually
alone was to remove the deadly stuff from the sling and lay it on a
shadowed shelf where it would be safe but convenient to his hand. Then,
going to his bunk, he reached under the blankets and found the other
stick of dynamite which he had not yet loaded. This he laid on the
kitchen table and cut it in two as he had done last night with the
other stick. With his remaining cap he loaded a half and carried it
back to his bunk. He was debating in his mind whether it was worth
while purloining another cap from a box under the boulder when another
fancy took him and set him grinning.

Four separate charges of dynamite, he reasoned, would not be necessary.
It was an even chance that the sight of a piece with the fuse in his
hand would be sufficient to tame Paw or Hank or Joe--or the three
together, for that matter--without going further than to give them a
sight of it.

With that idea uppermost, Casey split the paper carefully down the side
of the remaining half-stick, took out the contents in a tin plate and
carried it outside where he buried it in the sand beneath a bush.
Returning to the dugout he made a thick dough of leftover pancake
batter and molded it into the dynamite wrapping with a fragment of
harmless fuse protruding from the opened end. When the thing was dry,
Casey thought it would look very deadly and might be useful. After
several days of helplessness for want of a weapon, Casey was in a mood
to supply himself generously.

He finished the dish-washing, working awkwardly with one hand. After
that he put a kettle of beans on to boil, filled the stove with pinon
sticks and closed the drafts. He armed himself with the two loaded
pieces of dynamite from the cupboard, filled his pockets with such
other things as he thought he might need, and went prospecting on his
own account.

At the portal of the tunnel he stopped and listened for the ping-g,
ping-g of a single-jack striking steadily upon steel. But the tunnel
was silent, the ore car uptilted at the end of its track on the dump.
Yet the three men were supposedly at work in the mine, had talked at
breakfast about wanting to show a certain footage when the boss
returned, and of needing to hurry.

Casey went into the tunnel, listening and going silently; sounds travel
far in underground workings. At the mouth of the