as the
stored fertility of some bygone age, the compression of the growth of a
young world, potential heat, light, power.

"This isn't much more than outcrop," Garland was saying, "but it's good
coal. Braden will make a clean-up on this when the railway comes
through--that is if it is his." His eyes met Poole's, and again there
was the unspoken query, the speculation.

"But I'm sure it isn't," said Faith. "That is, I'm almost sure."

"It would be a good thing to be sure about," Garland told her.

"I think my husband will be able to tell you," said Faith.

"No use telling us," Garland replied. "Braden's the man for him to see.
And--well, our instructions are not to allow anybody on the ground."

"No trespassing," Poole corroborated.

"But if this is my property--"

"That's the point--_if_ it is."

"I think it is. And until I know it isn't I have a right to come here,
and so has my husband."

Garland shrugged his shoulders. "I'm only telling you our instructions.
I may as well tell you Braden wouldn't want your husband coming here.
They're not friends, I guess. You'd better tell him to keep away."

"My husband will go where he likes without asking Mr. Braden's
permission."

"We're working for Braden," said Garland, "and what he says goes. We
don't want any trouble with anybody, but we're going to carry out our
instructions."

"I'll tell my husband," Faith returned. "Good-bye."

Garland and Poole watched her out of sight and stared at each other.

"Now what do you think of that?" the former asked.

"Darned if I know. She seemed sure. But Braden ought to know what he's
about."

"He _ought_ to," Garland admitted. "He sold her father whatever land she
has. He owns a whole bunch of it around here." He was silent for a
moment. "I wonder if he's putting something over; I wonder if she _does_
own this, and Braden has framed something on her?"

"Her deed would show what she owns."

"That's so. But if Braden is putting something over and we can get onto
it, we could make him come through. This thing is going to be worth
having a share in."

"How are we going to get onto it?"

"I don't know," Garland admitted, "but you never can tell what will turn
up."

"Suppose young Mackay comes horning in here. He'd come on the prod."

"This bunch can handle him," Garland said with confidence. "That big
Swede that's using the hammer is a bad actor. I'll give him a pointer
about Mackay."

CHAPTER XXXIV

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