Thirlwell pondered.  It was a hard life he led, working, for the most part, in the dark underground, for when money was scarce and wages high he could not be satisfied to superintend.  Scott, indeed, worked like a paid hand, and they had fought a long, and it seemed a losing, battle against forces whose strength science cannot yet properly measure.  The fish-oil lamps sometimes went out in poisonous air while they examined an unsafe working face; props broke under a load they ought to have borne; and now and then the roof came down.  Rock pillars crushed, massive stones fell out where one least expected, and there was always the icy water that the pump could not keep under and the frost could not stop.

Yet there was something that thrilled one in the stubborn fight, and a strange ascetic satisfaction in proving how much flesh and blood could stand.  One felt stronger for bracing one’s tired body against fresh fatigue, and watchfulness in the face of constant danger toned up the brain.  Then, after all, the vast, silent wilderness had a seductive charm.

“This country draws, and holds what it gets,” he said.  “I’m satisfied to stop here, as long as I’m young.”

For a time they smoked in silence, and presently went to bed, tired with exhausting labor and glad to rest in dreamless sleep until they began again in the bitter dawn.

CHAPTER XI

STORMONT FINDS A CLUE

The Dufferin House was the best hotel in the small Ontario town, and about ten o’clock one evening Stormont read a newspaper in his comfortable room.  His clerk had been some days in the town, looking into a proposed transaction in real estate, and Stormont left Winnipeg when a letter from him arrived.  This was not because the business required his supervision, but because Watson, the clerk, had found out something that might prove to be important, although it might lead to his employer’s wasting his time.  Stormont seldom let what he called a fighting change go by.

He had eaten a good supper at about six o’clock, and after a talk with Watson and a young man whose acquaintance the clerk had made, had sent them off to see the town at his expense.  This was not rash, because Stormont could trust his clerk.  Now he waited their return, but it was not for Watson’s benefit he had put a cigar-box and a bottle of strong liquor on the table.  Much depended on Watson’s tact and judgment, and Stormont felt relieved when he came in.

“I’ve got Drummond downstairs,” the clerk said.

“Very good,” said Stormont.  “Had you much trouble?”

“I certainly had some.  He wanted me to hire a sleigh and take a girl at a sweet-stuff store for a joy-ride.  Suggested it when she was there, and I think she meant to go.  Then he broke a lamp in the pool-room that cost us two dollars.”

“Well, I hope you haven’t overdone the thing.”