ir and letting it fall to the floor of the cavern
again, like a boy with a new sack of marbles, or a child with its
building blocks. Five tons and the night was not yet over! Five tons,
and the vein had not yet shown its other side!

Back to work they went now, six of the men drilling, Fairchild and the
other four mucking out the refuse, hauling it up the shaft, and then
turning to the ore that they might get it to the old, rotting bins and
into position for loading as soon as the owner of the Sampler could be
notified in the morning and the trucks could fight their way through
the snowdrifts of Kentucky Gulch to the mine for loading. Again
through the hours the drills bit into the rock walls, while the ore car
clattered along the tram line and while the creaking of the block and
tackle at the shaft seemed endless. In three days, approximately forty
tons of ore must come out of that mine,--and work must not cease.

Morning, and in spite of the sleep-laden eyes, the heavy aching in his
head, the tired drooping of the shoulders, Fairchild tramped to the
boarding house to notify Mother Howard and ask for news of Harry.
There had been none. Then he went on, to wait by the door of the
Sampler until Bittson, the owner, should appear, and drag him away up
the hill, even before he could open up for the morning.

"There it is!" he exclaimed, as he led him to the entrance of the
chamber. "There it is; take all you want of it and assay it!"

Bittson went forward into the cross-cut, where the men were drilling
even at new holes, and examined the vein. Already it was three feet
thick, and there was still ore ahead. One of the miners looked up.

"Just finishing up on the cross-cut," he announced, as he nodded toward
his drill. "I 've just bitten into the foot wall on the other side.
Looks to me like the vein 's about five feet thick--as near as I can
measure it."

"And--" Bittson picked up a few samples, examined them by the light of
the carbides and tossed them away--"you can see the silver sticking
out. I caught sight of a couple of pencil threads of it in one or two
of those samples. All right, Boy!" he turned to Fairchild. "What was
that bargain we made?"

"It was based on two hundred dollars a ton ore. This may run above--or
below. But whatever it is, I 'll sell you all you can handle for the
next three days at fifty dollars a ton under the assay price."

"You 've said the word. The trucks will be here in