“No pardon coming to me,” responded Fay heartily.  “I’ve been a little tough on you occasionally, that I’ll admit, and if I’ve done too much, I’m sure I beg your pardon.  I saw you had the right stuff in you that day when you stuck to the horse until you rode him, and I’ve always liked you first-rate since then.  And I wouldn’t worry about this last matter.  You were green to the country, and were put down here without definite instructions.  You trusted Davidson, of course, and got fooled in it; but then you just followed Bishop’s lead in that.  He’d been trusting Davidson before you got here, and if he hadn’t trusted him right along, you can bet you’d have had your directions from A to Z. He was as much to blame as you were, and you’ll find that he knows it.”

“I’m afraid you can’t make me feel any better about that,” objected Bennington, shaking his head despondently.

“Well, you’ll feel better after a time, and anyway there’s no actual harm done.”

At this moment Bert Leslie entered.

“Bill’s tickled to death,” he announced.  “She says she’s coming up first thing in the morning.  She wanted to come right off and cook supper, but I wouldn’t let her.  She couldn’t very well stay here all night, and it’s pretty late now.  What you got here?  Pork?  Coffee?  Murphies?”

He sat down and began to eat hungrily.  Jim arose to relieve the sentinel at the mouth of the shaft, at the same time advising de Laney to go to bed as soon as possible.

“You’re tired,” he said, “and need rest.  Wet that compress well with Pond’s Extract, and we’ll dress it again in the morning.”

In the kitchen he found the strange sombre woman sitting bolt upright in silence, her arms folded rigidly across her flat bosom.  She looked straight in front of her, and rocked slowly to and fro on her chair.

“You mustn’t worry, Mrs. Arthur,” consoled Fay kindly, pausing for a moment.  “There isn’t going to be any trouble.  It’s just a little matter of mining law.  We’ll have to keep your husband locked up for a few days, but he won’t be harmed.”

The woman made no reply.  Fay looked at her sharply again, and passed out.

“Jeems,” he directed that individual at the mouth of the shaft, “go get your grub.  Send the kid to bed right off, and then you and Bert come down here and we’ll fix up these prairie dogs of ours down the hole.”

Jeems and his brother therefore helped the wounded hero to bed, and left him to a much-needed slumber; after which they returned to the spot of light in the darkness which marked the glow of Fay’s pipe.  That capable individual issued directions.  First of all they lowered, by means of a light cord, food and water to their prisoners.  The latter maintained a sullen silence, and it was only by the lightening of the burden at the end of the line that those above knew their provisions had been appropriated.  Then followed blankets.  The Leslies were strongly