alive and concealed somewhere in the neighbourhood, what was their
present object? Had they decided they were risking too much in
permitting him to live? Had something occurred to make them feel it
safer to have him out of the way permanently? What connection did Bill
Lacy have with the gang?

Westcott rose to his feet and began following the trail up the cañon.
He was not serving Cavendish nor Miss Donovan by sitting there. He
would, at least, discover where Lacy was and learn what the fellow was
engaged at. He walked rapidly, but the sun was nearly down by the time
he reached the mouth of his own drift.

While waiting word from the East which would enable him to develop the
claim, Westcott had thought it best to discontinue work, and hide, as
best he could, from others the fact that he had again discovered the
lost lead of rich ore. To that end, after taking out enough for his
immediate requirements in the form of nuggets gathered from a single
pocket, which he had later negotiated quietly at a town down the
railroad, he had blocked up the new tunnel and discontinued operations.
He had fondly believed his secret secure, until Lacy's careless words
had aroused suspicion that the latter might have seen his telegrams to
Cavendish. His only assistant, a Mexican, who had been with him for
some time, remained on guard at the bunk-house, and, so far as he knew,
no serious effort had been made to explore the drift by any of Lacy's
satellites. Now, as he came up the darkening gulch, and crunched his
way across the rock-pile before the tunnel entrance, he saw the
cheerful blaze of a fire in the Mexican's quarters and stopped to
question him.

"_Señor_--you!"