y Fork Gulch" appears in the text here.]

"I see, Dear," said his wife. "When do you plan to go down?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Can you wait until we come up from the ranch?"

"Yes. Mr. Knowles will no doubt be back by then. He can bring you out
early."

"We shall come early, anyway," said Isobel.

"Of course!" added Genevieve. She drew a deep breath. "I shall see the
place before you attempt to descend."

Her husband nodded reassuringly and looked around to where Gowan and
Ashton stood waiting, several yards from one another.

"About lunch time, isn't it?" he remarked. "Mr. Gowan will wish to be
starting soon to bring up his second load."

At the suggestion, the ladies hastened to spread out their own lunch
and the one brought by Blake. When called by Isobel, Gowan came
forward to join the party, with rather less than his usual reserve in
his speech and manner.

Ashton was the last to seat himself on the springy cushion of brown
pine needles, and he sat throughout the meal in moody silence. Blake
and the ladies attributed this to the fatigue of working through the
long hot morning while suffering from his unhealed wound. He repulsed
the sympathetic attentions of the Blakes. But he could not long
continue to resist the kindly concern of the girl. After lunch she
made him lie down in the shade while she bathed his wound with a good
part of the small supply of water remaining in the canteens.

Gowan had been asking questions about the work. Blake explained at
some length why he considered it necessary not only to descend into
the canyon but to carry the line of levels down along the bed of the
subterranean stream to this point opposite Dry Fork Gulch. When Isobel
drew apart with Ashton the puncher did not look at them, though his
eyes narrowed to slits and his mouth straightened.

"You shore have nerve to tackle it, Mr. Blake," he commented.
"Everything alive that I know of that's ever gone down into Deep Canyon
hasn't ever come up again, except it had wings."

"We'll prove that the rule has an exception," replied Blake, smiling
away the reawakened apprehension of his wife.

Gowan shook his head doubtfully, and strolled down the slope to peer
into the canyon. The level was directly in his path, set up firmly on
its tripod, about six feet from the brink. The puncher stopped beside
it to squint through the telescope.

"You'll have one--peach of a time seeing anything through this
contraption down there," he