what Larsen had found.
Finally Larsen pulled a gun and shot Fairchild. He fell, and I knew he
was dead. Then Larsen bent over him, and when he did I hit him--on the
head with a single-jack hammer. Then I set off the charge. Nobody
ever will know how it happened unless they find the bullet or the gun.
I don't care if they do. Roady wanted me to do it.'"

Fairchild started to speak, but the sheriff stopped him.

"Wait, here 's another item:

"'I failed. I did n't kill either of them. They got out someway and
drove out of town to-night. Roady is mad at me. He won't come near
me. And I 'm so lonesome for him!'"

"The explanation!" Fairchild almost shouted it as he seized the book
and read it again. "Sheriff, I 've got to make a confession. My
father always thought that he had killed a man. Not that he told
me--but I could guess it easily enough, from other things that
happened. When he came to, he found a single-jack hammer lying beside
him, and Larsen's body across him. Could n't he naturally believe that
he had killed him while in a daze? He was afraid of Rodaine--that
Rodaine would get up a lynching party and string him up. Harry here
and Mrs. Howard helped him out of town. And this is the explanation!"

Bardwell smiled quizzically.

"It looks like there 's going to be a lot of explanations. What time
was it when you were trapped in that mine, Harkins?"

"Along about the first of November."

The sheriff turned to the page. It was there,--the story of Crazy
Laura and her descent into the Blue Poppy mine, and again the charge of
dynamite which wrecked the tunnel. With a little sigh, Bardwell closed
the book and looked out at the dawn, forcing its way through the
blinding snow.

"Yes, I guess we 'll find a lot of things in this old book," came at
last. "But I think right now that the best thing any of us can find is
a little sleep."

Rest,--rest for five wearied persons, but the rest of contentment and
peace. And late in the afternoon, three of them were gathered in the
old-fashioned parlor of Mother Howard's boarding house, waiting for the
return of that dignitary from a sudden mission upon which Anita
Richmond had sent her, involving a trip to the old Richmond mansion.
Harry turned away from his place at the window.

"The district attorney 'ad a long talk with Barnham," he announced,
"and 'e 's figured out a wye for all the stock'olders in the Silver
Queen to get what's coming to them