There was a gap in the rail on the river side of the line, but it was
not a fracture. At one of the joints the fish-plates were missing, and
the rail-ends were sprung apart sidewise sufficiently to let the wheel
flanges pass through. Groner went down on his hands and knees with the
lantern held low, and made another discovery.

"This ain't no happen-so, Mr. Lidgerwood," he said, when he got up. "The
spikes are pulled!"

Lidgerwood said nothing. There are discoveries which are beyond speech.
But he stooped to examine for himself. Groner was right. For a distance
of eight or ten feet the rail had been loosened, and the spikes were
gone out of the corresponding cross-ties. After it was loosened, the
rail had been sprung aside, and the bit of rock inserted between the
parted ends to keep them from springing together was still in place.

Lidgerwood's eyes were bloodshot when he rose and said:

"I'd like to ask you two men, as men, what devil out of hell would set a
trap like this for a train-load of unoffending passengers?"

Bradford's slow drawl dispelled a little of the mystery.

"It wasn't meant for Groner and his passenger-wagons, I reckon. In the
natural run of things, it was the 266 and the service-car that ought
to've hit this thing first--204 bein' supposed to be a half-hour off her
schedule. It was aimed for us, all right enough. And it wasn't meant to
throw us into the hill, neither. If we'd hit it goin' west, we'd be in
the river. That's why it was sprung out instead of in."

Lidgerwood's right hand, balled into a fist, smote the air, and his
outburst was a fierce imprecation. In the midst of it Groner said,
"Listen!" and a moment later a man, walking rapidly up the track from
the direction of Little Butte station, came into the small circle of
lantern-light. Groner threw the light on the new-comer, revealing a
haggard face--the face of the owner of the Wire-Silver mine.

"Heavens and earth, Mr. Lidgerwood--this is awful!" he exclaimed. "I
heard of it by 'phone, and hurried over to do what I could. My men of
the night-shift are on the way, walking up the track, and the entire
Wire-Silver outfit is at your disposal."

"I am afraid you are a little late, Mr. Flemister," was Lidgerwood's
rejoinder, unreasoning antagonism making the words sound crisp and
ungrateful. "Half an hour ago----"

"Yes, certainly; Goodloe should have 'phoned me, if he knew," cut in the
mine-owner. "Anybody hurt?"

"Half of the nu