peanuts, and whenever they moved, he swore, he could hear their
brains rattle in their skulls. It doesn't take brains to shoot
straight, and he decided that the lanky young man was the one who
had shot from the rim-rock. They drove him down into the narrow,
deep gulch, following a steep trail that Casey had not seen the
day before. The trail led them to the mouth of a tunnel; and by
the size of the dump Casey judged that the workings were of a
considerable extent. They were getting out silver ore, he
guessed, after a glance or two at stray pieces of rock.

Joe was a big, glum-looking individual with his left hand
bandaged. He chewed tobacco industriously and maintained a
complete silence while Hank, frequently telling Paw to shut up,
told how and where they had found Casey spying up on the butte.

"We don't fancy stray desert rats prowlin' around without no
reason," said Joe. "Our boss that we're workin' for ain't at
home. We're lookin' for 'im back any day now, an' we'll just
hold yuh till he comes. He can do as he likes about yuh. You'll
have to work fer your board--c'm on an' I'll show yuh how."

Hank followed Casey and Joe into the tunnel. Casey made no
objections whatever to going. The tunnel was a fairly long one,
he noticed, with drifts opening out of it to left and right. At
the end of the main tunnel, Joe turned, took Casey's candle from
him and stuck it into a seam in the wall, as he had done with his
own.

"Ever drill in rock?" he asked shortly.