Finally they turned back along the drift toward the stope, the
acrid odor of dynamite smoke-cutting at their nostrils as they
approached the spot where the explosions had occurred. There Harry
stood in silent contemplation for a long time, holding his carbide over
the pile of ore that had been torn from the vein above.

"It ain't much," came at last. "Not more 'n 'arf a ton. We won't get
rich at that rate. And besides--" he looked upward--"we ain't even
going to be getting that pretty soon. It's pinching out."

Fairchild followed his gaze, to see in the torn rock above him only a
narrow streak now, fully an inch and a half narrower than the vein had
been before the powder holes had been drilled. It could mean only one
thing: that the bet had been played and lost, that the vein had been
one of those freak affairs that start out with much promise, seem to
give hope of eternal riches, and then gradually dwindle to nothing.
Harry shook his head.

"It won't last."

"Not more than two or three more shots," Fairchild agreed.

"You can't tell about that. It may run that way all through the
mountain--but what's a four-inch vein? You can go up 'ere in the
Argonaut tunnel and find 'arf a dozen of them things that they don't
even take the trouble to mine. That is, unless they run 'igh in
silver--" he picked up a chunk of the ore from the muck pile where it
had been deposited and studied it intently--"but I don't see any pure
silver sticking out in this stuff."

"But it must be here somewhere. I don't know anything about
mining--but don't veins sometimes pinch off and then show up later on?"

"Sure they do--sometimes. But it's a gamble."

"That's all we 've had from the beginning, Harry."

"And it's about all we 're going to 'ave any time unless something bobs
up sudden like."

Then, by common consent, they laid away their working clothes and left
the mine, to wander dejectedly down the gulch and to the boarding
house. After dinner they chatted a moment with Mother Howard,
neglecting to tell her, however, of the downfall of their hopes, then
went upstairs, each to his room. An hour later Harry knocked at
Fairchild's door, and entered, the evening paper in his hand.

"'Ere 's something more that's nice," he announced, pointing to an item
on the front page. It was the announcement that a general grand jury
was to be convened late in the summer and that one of its tasks
probably would be to seek to unravel t