It was two o’clock in the afternoon when Dave rode into Orella. This was a typical mining town of Montana, containing but a single street with stores, the majority of which were but one story in height. Back of this street were probably half a hundred cabins standing at all sorts of angles toward the landscape; and beyond these were the mines.

Just previous to entering the town Dave had stopped at a wayside spring and there washed up. Before that he had brushed himself off as well as he was able, so that when he entered the place the only evidences he carried of the encounter with Nick Jasniff were some scratches on the back of his hand and a small swelling on his left cheek.

The first person he met directed him to the offices of the Orella Mining Company, of which Mr. Raymond Carson was the general manager.

“Is Mr. Carson in?” he questioned of the clerk who came forward to interview him.

“He is,” was the answer. “Who shall I say wants to see him?”

89“My name is Porter, and I was sent here to see him by Mr. Obray of the Mentor Construction Company.”

“Oh, then I guess you can go right in,” returned the clerk, and showed the way to a private office in the rear of the building.

Here Mr. Raymond Carson sat at his desk writing out some telegrams. Dave quickly introduced himself and brought forth the legal-looking envelope which had been intrusted to him. The manager of the mining company tore it open and looked over the contents with care.

“Very good—just what I was waiting for,” he announced. “You can tell Mr. Obray I am much obliged for his promptness.”

“Would you mind giving me a receipt for the papers?” questioned the young civil engineer.

“Not at all.” The mining company manager called in one of the clerks. “Here, take down a receipt,” and he dictated what he wished to say.

Dave at first thought he might tell of how close he had come to losing the documents, but then considered that it might not be wise to mention the occurrence. The receipt was written out and signed and passed over.

“How are matters coming along over at your camp?” questioned Mr. Raymond Carson with a smile.

“Oh, we are doing very well, everything considered,” 90was Dave’s reply. “We are having a little trouble on account of some of the rocks in Section Six. They are afraid of a landslide. We’ve got to build two bridges there, and our engineers are going to have their own troubles getting the proper foundations.”

“Yes, that’s a great section for landslides. I was out there mining once, and we had some of the worst cave-ins I ever heard about.”

“There is practically no mining around there now,” ventured Dave.

“No. The returns were not sufficient to warrant operations. Some time, however, I think somebody will open up a vein there that will be worth while.”

A few words more passed concerning the work of the construction company, and then Dave prepared to leave. Just as he was about to step out of the office, however, he turned.

“By the way, Mr. Carson, may I ask if there was a young fellow about my own age here during the past week or two looking for a job—a fellow who said his name was Jasper Nicholas?”

“A young fellow about your age named Nicholas?” mused the mine manager. “Let me see. Did he have a cast in one eye?”

“The fellow I mean squints a good deal with one of his eyes. He is rather tall and lanky.”

91“Yes, he was here. He wanted a job in the mines. Said he didn’t think he was cut out for office work. But somehow or other I didn’t like his looks. Is he a friend of yours?”

“He is not!” declared Dave quickly. “In fact, he is just the opposite. And what is more, he is a thief and has served a term in prison.”

“You don’t say!” exclaimed the mine manager. “Are you sure of this?”

“Positive, sir. His real name is Nicholas Jasniff. Some years ago he and another fellow stole some valuable jewels from a jewelry works. I aided in capturing him and sending him to prison.”

“Humph! If that’s the case I am glad I didn’t hire him. As I said before, I didn’t like his looks at all, and out here we go about as much on looks as we do on anything.”

“He came to our camp, but Mr. Obray soon sent him about his business,” said Dave.

After talking the matter over for a few minutes longer, but without mentioning the attack on the trail, Dave rode away. At the end of the street he stopped at a general store, which contained a drug department, and while giving his horse a chance to feed, there obtained some liniment with which he rubbed his lame shoulder and his hurt ankle. Then, having obtained a bottle of lemon-soda with which to quench his thirst, 92and help along his supper when he should stop to eat it, our hero set off on the return to the construction camp.

By the time Dave reached the spot where the encounter with Jasniff had occurred, it was growing somewhat dark on the trail. Over to the westward the mountains were much taller than those where the trail ran, and the deep shadows were creeping upward from the valley below. Soon the orb of day sank out of sight, and then the darkness increased.

So far on the return Dave had met but two men—old prospectors who had paid scant attention to him as he passed. He had stopped at a convenient point to eat what remained of the lunch he had brought along, washing it down with the lemon-soda. Presently he came to a fork in the trail, and by a signboard placed there knew that he was now less than four miles from the construction camp.

The hard ride had tired the young civil engineer greatly, and he was glad enough to let Sport move forward on a walk. The horse, too, had found the journey a hard one, and was well content to progress at a reduced rate of speed.

The narrow portion of the footway having been left behind, horse and rider came out into something of a hollow on the mountainside. Here and there were a number of loose rocks and also quite 93a growth of scrub timber. Dave w............