"
"Was that all? Didn't the other fellow say anything?"
"No, _senor_; but he swung his horse against me as they went by--he
mighty poor rider."
"No doubt; that is not one of the amusements of the Bowery. Where did
they go? Up to La Rosita?"
"_Si, senor_; I watched, they were there two hour."
Westcott stared into the fireplace; then the gravity of his face
relaxed into a smile.
"Things are growing interesting, Jose," he said cheerfully. "If I only
knew just which way the cat was about to jump I'd be somewhat happier.
There seemed to be more light than usual across the gulch as I came
up--what's going on?"
"They have put on more men, _senor_--a night shift. Last night I went
in our drift clear to the end, and put my ear to the rock. It was far
away, but I hear."
"No, no, Jose; that's impossible. Why, their tunnel as over a hundred
yards away; not even the sound of dynamite would penetrate that
distance through solid rock. You heard your heart beat."
"No, _senor_," and Jose was upon his feet gesticulating. "It was the
pick--strike, strike, strike; then stop an' begin, strike, strike,
strike again.
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