clanking of rocks and the bass
guffaw of men had come up to her from below; and terror supplied a whip
that even hatred lacked--it was Ike Bray and his drunken guards!

As she staggered to the rim and dragged herself past the wall where
McBain had come to his death it seemed as if she must drop, but the men
were coming behind. She drew a great sobbing breath and, with her hand
on her pistol, hastened over to the discovery shaft. It was a black,
staring hole and by the dump beside it there stood a sign-post
supported by rocks. A pale half moon had risen in the East and by its
light she made out the notice that was tacked to the center of the
board. That was Rimrock's notice, but now it was void for the hour was
long after twelve. She tore it down and stuffed it into her pocket and
drew out the one she had prepared. Then, gumming it carefully from a
tube of glue, she posted it on the board. Already the voices were
coming nearer, but there was one thing more to do--she lit a match and,
looking at her watch, wrote the exact time on the blanks.

[Illustration: That was Rimrock's notice, but now it was void for the
hour was long after twelve]

In the brief half hour that was occupied by Ike Bray in making the last
lap of his trip Mary lived in an agony of fear. He came up slowly,
using such violent language as she had never heard before; and,
combined with the curses that he called down on the guards, was the
demand for drink, and more drink. As she crouched behind a boulder
that stood on the rim she bit her lips with shame and the hot rush of
anger at his obscene revilings made her reconciled to killing him, if
she must. He was lower than the lowest of created animals, a vile,
degenerate beast; and as he struggled to the top and made for the
monument his curses were directed against Rimrock.

"I'll show him!" he vaunted as he swayed before the sign, "I'll show
him if Ike Bray's afraid. He can run a blazer over lawyers and women;
but me--hey, tear off this notice!"

There was a minute of fumbling and then, as she gazed out at them, the
taller guard spoke up.

"It's stuck," he said, "tighter than the back door of hell. Let it go
and nail yours on top. Holy Smoke, if I'd knowed what a job this
was--here, what are you doing now? Aw, give me that notice! Now
where's your tacks? Say, Hank, pull him back from that hole!"

The sound of hammering came to her ears, half-drowned by a drunken
brawl, and then ther