a moment he was puzzled. “Miss Fraser! Oh! She gave up that name several years ago. Mrs. Collins they call her. And say, you ought to see her kiddies. You’d fall in love with them sure.”
The girl covered her mistake promptly with a little laugh. It would never do for him to know she had been yielding to incipient jealousy. “Why can’t I know them? I want to meet her too.”
The door opened and a curly head was thrust in. “Dining-room closes for breakfast at nine. My clock says it’s ten-thirty now. Pretty near work to keep eating that long, ain’t it? And this Sunday, too! I’ll have you put in the calaboose for breaking the Sabbath.”
“We’re only bending it,” grinned Neill. “Good mo’ning, Lieutenant. How is Mrs. Collins, and the pickaninnies?”
“First rate. Waiting in the parlor to be introduced to Miss Kinney.”
“We’re through,” announced Margaret, rising.
“You too, Tennessee? The proprietor will be grateful.”
The young women took to each other at once. Margaret was very fond of children, and the little boy won her heart immediately. Both he and his baby sister were well-trained, healthy, and lovable little folks, and they adopted “Aunt Peggy” enthusiastically.
Presently the ranger proposed to Neill an adjournment.
“I got to take some breakfast down the Jackrabbit shaft to my prisoner. Wanter take a stroll that way?” he asked.
“If the ladies will excuse us.”
“Glad to get rid of you,” Miss Kinney assured him promptly, but with a bright smile that neutralized the effect of her sauciness. “Mrs. Collins and I want to have a talk.”
The way to the Jackrabbit lay up a gulch behind the town. Up one incline was a shaft-house with a great gray dump at the foot of it. This they left behind them, climbing the hill till they came to the summit.
The ranger pointed to another shaft-house and dump on the next hillside.
“That’s the Mal Pais, from which the district is named. Dunke owns it and most of the others round here. His workings and ours come together in several places, but we have boarded up the tunnels at those points and locked the doors we put in. Wonder where Brown is? I told him to meet me here to let us down.”
At this moment they caught sight of him coming up a timbered draw. He lowered them into the shaft, which was about six hundred feet deep. From the foot of the shaft went a tunnel into the heart of the mountain. Steve led the way, flashing an electric searchlight as he went.
“We aren’t working this part of the mine any more,” he explained. “It connects with the newer workings by a tunnel. We’ll go back that way to the shaft.”
“You’ve got quite a safe prison,” commented the other.
“It’s commodious, anyhow; and I reckon it’s safe. If a man was to get loose he couldn’t reach the surface without taking somebody into partner-ship with him. There ain’t but three ways to daylight; one by the shaft we came down, another by way of our shaft-house, and the third by Dunke’s, assuming he could break through into the Mal Pais. He’d better not break loose and go to wandering around. There are seventeen miles of workings down here in the Jackrabbit, let alone the Mal Pais. He might easily get lost and starve to death. Here he is at the end of this tunnel.”
Steve flashed the light twice before he could believe his eyes. There was no sign of Struve except the handcuffs depending from an iron chain connected by a heavy staple with the granite wall. Apparently he had somehow managed to slip from the gyves by working at them constantly.
The officer turned to his friend and laughed. “I reckon I’m holding the sack this time. See. There’s blood on these cuffs. He rasped his hands some before he got them out.”
“Well, you’ve still got him safe down here somewhere.”
“Yes, I have or Dunke has. The trouble is both the mines are shut down just now. He’s got about forty miles of tunnel to play hide-and-go-seek in. He’s in luck if he doesn’t starve to death.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I’ll have to get some of my men out on search-parties—just tell them there’s a man lost down here without telling them who. I reckon we better say nothing about it to the ladies. You know how tender-hearted they are. Nellie wouldn’t sleep a wink to-night for worrying.”
“All right. We’d better get to it at once then.”
Fraser nodded. “We’ll go up and rustle a few of the boys that know the mine well. I expect before we find him Mr. Wolf Struve will be a lamb and right anxious for the shepherd to arrive.”
All day the search proceeded without results, and all of the next day. The evening of this second day found Struve still not accounted for.
Chapter X.
In a Tunnel of the Mal Pais
Although Miss Kinney had assured Neill that she was glad to be rid of him it occurred to her more than once in the course of the day that he was taking her a little too literally. On Sunday she did not see a glimpse of him after he left. At lunch he did not appear, nor was he in evidence at dinner. Next morning she learned that he had been to breakfast and had gone before she got down. She withheld judgment till lunch, being almost certain that he would be on hand to that meal. His absence roused her resentment and her independence. If he didn’t care to see her she certainly did not want to see him. She was not going to sit around and wait for him to take her down into the mine he had promised she should see. Let him forget his appointment if he liked. He would wait a long time before she made any more engagements with him.
About this time Dunke began to flatter himself that he had made an impression. Miss Kinney was all smiles. She was graciously pleased to take a horseback ride over the camp with him, nor did he know that her roving eye was constantly on the lookout for a certain spare, clean-built figure she could recognize at a considerable distance by the easy, elastic tread. Monday evening the mine-owner called upon her and Mrs. Collins, whose brother also was among the missing, and she was delighted to accept his invitation to go through the Mal Pais workings with him.
“That is, if Mrs. Collins will go, too,” she added as an afterthought.
That young woman hesitated. Though this man had led his miners against her brother, she was ready to believe the attack not caused by personal enmity. The best of feeling did not exist between the owners of the Jackrabbit and those of the Mal Pais. Dunke was suspected of boldly crossing into the territory of his neighbor where his veins did not lead. But there had been no open rupture. For the very reason that an undertow of feeling existed Nellie consented to join the party. She did not want by a refusal to put into words a hostility that he had always carefully veiled. She was in the position of not wanting to go at all, yet wanting still less to decline to do so.
“I shall be glad to go,” she said.
“Fine. We’ll start about nine, or nine-thirty say. I’ll drive up in a surrey.”
“And we’ll have lunch for the party put up at the hotel here. I’ll get some fruit to take along,” said Margaret.
“We’ll make a regular picnic of it,” added Dunke heartily. “You’ll enjoy eating out of a dinner-pail for once just like one of my miners, Miss Kinney.”
After he had gone Margaret mentioned to Mrs. Collins her feeling concerning him. “I don’t really like him. Or rather I don’t give him my full confidence. He seems pleasant enough, too.” She laughed a little as she added: “You know he does me the honor to admire me.”
“Yes, I know that. I was wondering how you felt about it.”