er slipped in his hands, but he did not
miss a stroke. He had promised the girl his help, and when the hole was
sunk he chose the best spot for the next with fastidious care. He meant
to play a straight game, although it would cost him much to let her win.
By and by the miner picked up some of the bits of stone.

"Weight's all right; guess the stuff's carrying heavy metal," he
remarked. "Still, I've seen a lode pinch out. It may be a pocket and the
dirt run poor when you get farther in."

"It's possible," Thirlwell agreed in a dull voice.

The miner gave him a sharp glance. "Looks as if you wouldn't be much
disappointed! Don't you _want_ the dirt to go rich?"

"Let's get on," said Thirlwell. "I want to fire the shot before it's
dark."

"Then watch out for my fingers," the miner rejoined. "When you pound her
as you've been doing I like to see you keep your eye on the drill."

They worked for some time and then Thirlwell sent for Agatha, and
helping her across the creek, held up the ends of two or three fuses and
a match-box.

"It's proper that you should fire the first shot. I've put in a heavy
charge and we'll know something about the ore when we see the stuff the
blast brings down."

Agatha lighted the fuses and they hurried back to the shelter of the
trees, where she stood with her heart beating fast. It was proper that
she should be first to undertake her father's work; Thirlwell's thought
was graceful. She glanced at him, but his brown face was inscrutable,
although his mouth was firm. His quietness jarred; she felt angry and
disappointed, as if she had been robbed of something.

For all that, she thrilled as she watched the faint sparkle of the fuse.
She had won the first battle more easily than she had thought, and had
now begun the next stage of the struggle. She sprang from a pioneering
stock and knew that the shot she fired would break the daunting silence
of the woods for good. If she failed to develop the mine somebody else
would succeed. The lonely hollow would soon be covered with tents and
shacks; men's voices and the rattle of machines would drown the soft
splash of the creek. She was blasting a way for civilization into the
wilderness.

A flash, springing from different spots, leaped across the foot of the
cliff; gray smoke rolled up, and there was a roar that rolled in
confused echoes across the woods. The front of the rock seemed to totter
behind the smoke, great stones splashed in the wate