now and then for the sound
of the fading ore car. Behind him were Fairchild and Anita, following
the same procedure. And all three stopped at once.

The hollow sound was coming directly to them now. Harry once more
brought out his carbide to light it for a moment and to examine the
timbering.

"It's a good job!" he commented. "You could n't tell it five feet off!"

"They 've made a cross-cut!" This time it was Anita's voice, plainly
angry in spite of its whispering tones. "No wonder they had such a
wonderful strike," came scathingly. "That other stope down there--"

"Ain't nothing but a salted proposition," said Harry. "They 've
cemented up the top of it with the real stuff and every once in a while
they blow a lot of it out and cement it up again to make it look like
that's the real vein."

"And they 're working our mine!" Red spots of anger were flashing
before Fairchild's eyes.

"You 've said it! That's why they were so anxious to buy us out. And
that's why they started this two-million-dollar stock proposition, when
they found they could n't do it. They knew if we ever 'it that vein
that it would n't be any time until they 'd be caught on the job.
That's why they 're ready to pull out--with somebody else 's million.
They 're getting at the end of their rope. Another thing; that
explains them working at night."

Anita gritted her teeth.

"I see it now--I can get the reason. They 've been telephoning Denver
and holding conferences and all that sort of thing. And they planned
to leave these two men behind here to take all the blame."

"They'll get enough of it!" added Harry grimly. "They 're miners.
They could see that they were making a straight cross-cut tunnel on to
our vein. They ain't no children, Blindeye and Taylor Bill. And 'ere
's where they start getting their trouble."

He pulled at the door and it yielded grudgingly. The three slipped
past, following along the line of the tram track in the darkness,
Harry's pick handle swinging beside him as they sneaked along. Rods
that seemed miles; at last lights appeared in the distance. Harry
stopped to peer ahead. Then he tossed aside his weapon.

"There 's only two of 'em--Blindeye and Taylor Bill. I could whip 'em
both myself but I 'll take the big 'un. You--" he turned to
Fairchild--"you get Blindeye."

"I 'll get him."

Anita stopped and groped about for a stone.

"I 'll be ready with something in case of accident," came