r every pound of supplies
he hauled out. And, because of the war, all supplies were high and the
machinery houses were behind with their orders; yet so eager were the
buyers to get hold of his tungsten that they almost took it out of the
bins. He was storing up the ore, preparatory to milling it and shipping
only the concentrates; but if they could have their way they would wrest
it from his hands and rush it to the railroad post haste. One mysterious
buyer had even offered him a contract at seventy dollars a unit--three
dollars and a half a pound!

Wiley opened up his notebook and made a careful estimate of what the ore
on the dump would bring and his eyes grew big as he figured. At seventy
dollars a unit it would come to more than he owed; and pay for the mine,
to boot. It was a stupendous sum to come so quickly, before the mine was
hardly opened up; but when the mill was running and the mine was sending
up ore--he smiled dizzily and shook his head. A profit like that, if it
ever became known, would make his position dangerous. It was too much of
a temptation for Blount and his jumpers, and blackleg lawyers with fake
claims. They could get out injunctions and tie up the work until he lost
the mine by default!

But would they dare do it? And how long would it take to raise fifty
thousand dollars elsewhere? Wiley studied it all over in the silence of
his office, for the mine was closed down for Christmas; and then once
more he turned to his notebook and figured the ore underground. Then he
figured the outside cost for installing his machinery, for freight and
supplies and the payroll; and, adding twenty per cent for wear and tear
and accidents, he figured the grand total for six months. That was
astounding too but, when he put against it his ore and the price per
ton, not even the chances that stood out against him could keep down
that dizzy smile. He was made, he was rich, if he could just hold things
level and do a day's work every day.

The sun set at last as he sat planning details and, rising up stiffly,
he pushed his papers aside and went out into the night. The snow had
melted fast on the roofs and bare ridges and, as the last rays of sunset
touched the peak with ruddy fingers, he noticed that the shadow had come
back. The barren lava cap had thrown aside its Christmas mantle, melting
the snow before it could pack; and now, grim and black, it stood out
like a death-head above the white valley below. Lights flas