Part 33 (1/2)

Agatha stopped for a few moments and felt her heart beat. The dream she had first dreamed long since had come true, but she knew it might not have done so had she not had Thirlwell's help. In the meantime, the scene impressed itself upon her brain, so that she could long afterwards recall it when she wished--the nearly level sunbeams falling across the trees and turning their bark fiery red, the gleam of water, and the figures of the men plodding slowly downhill with their loads. Their faces glowed like polished copper in the searching light, their overalls were ragged and stained, and one stumbled and lurched wildly down a slope with a rattle of rolling stones. Then she glanced at Thirlwell, who stood close by, watching her with a sympathetic smile, though his pose was rather strained.

”Ah,” she said, ”you have brought me here! Just now I cannot thank you as I ought.”

”We'll go on,” he answered quietly. ”I'd like to fire a shot or two before it's dark, and we'll need some time to drill the holes.”

Agatha gave him a quick look. ”You are nothing if you're not practical, but perhaps that's fortunate. One trusts practical people when there are things that must be done.”

The suns.h.i.+ne had faded when they reached the bottom of the hill and the hollow was shadowy and cool. Thirlwell ordered the men to make camp and then went with Agatha to the foot of the cliff. The creek that flowed past the rock ran clear and low, and he got across by jumping from ledge to ledge. Then, as he scrambled among the boulders towards a spot he had marked he heard a splash, and looking round saw that Agatha had slipped into the stream. She waded across, with the water rippling round her long boots, and when she joined him trembled with suspense.

”You needn't have come over,” he said, smiling as he indicated a band of darker color that seamed the ragged face of the gray stone. ”That's all there is to see! Hardly looks as if it was worth your coming so far to find it? It was a lucky accident the color caught your father's eye; the vein's only distinct for a few yards where the frost has brought down the cliff. I think we'll find it dips.”

Agatha noted that his tone was very matter-of-fact, although his face was set, and thought she had better follow his lead.

”Then the ore must once have outcropped. It's a good example of denudation.”

”Yes; it probably ran out some distance back. You can see how the creek has cut down the rock, but frost and snow have helped. One can't tell yet whether the best or worst has been lost; but to begin with, we'll look for the discovery post.”

They found it driven among the gravel; then, climbing a gully, reached the crest of the rock. Thirlwell led Agatha through the bush by his compa.s.s until he traced a rough oblong, marked by other posts. She followed him with confused emotions and once or twice her eyes filled with tears. Her father had driven these stakes; she could imagine the thrill it gave him to feel that at length his faith and labor were justified. His confidence had never wavered, although he had borne mockery and contempt and the gentle ridicule of his anxious wife. Then, when the prize he toiled for was won and he went back to enjoy it, the river had swept him away. But after all, love had conquered the angry flood, for he had left a clue that the rapid could not destroy.

Agatha thought Thirlwell understood something of her feelings, because he did not talk except when he showed her the posts. When they reached the last he said, ”On the whole, I imagine your father's judgment was good. In fact, he picked his ground like a mining engineer.”

”He had twenty years to brood about the vein at home,” Agatha replied.

”Are you surprised that he studied all the books on mining he could get?”

Thirlwell made an apologetic gesture. ”I oughtn't to be surprised: he was your father, and it's obvious that you have prepared yourself to carry on his work. Well, I think he has staked off the best of the vein; at least, his claim covers the part that can best be reached. But you'll have trouble with the water; it may mean driving a drainage heading and putting up expensive pumps. The ore may be rich enough to stand the extra cost, but I can tell you more when I have fired a shot.”

They went back to the camp, where the _Metis_ had cooked supper, but Thirlwell did not eat much and soon returned to the cliff. He took the white rock-borer, but Agatha did not go with him. She felt chilled by his quietness. It was now plain that, since her father had marked off the exposed edge of the inclined lode, Thirlwell must sink a deep shaft if he wished to reach it farther back. This, however, did not account for his moodiness; for one thing, he had not expected that they would find the ore. Besides, he was generous and would want her to have the best. It would have been a comfort to give him half the claim, but he would refuse the gift. She had meant to enjoy her triumph with him, but this satisfaction had gone. It hurt, her to see him disturbed, but she colored as she resolved that her success should not separate them. If he was obstinate, something must be risked.

In the meantime, Thirlwell struck the drill his companion held. His face was damp with sweat and the hammer slipped in his hands, but he did not miss a stroke. He had promised the girl his help, and when the hole was sunk he chose the best spot for the next with fastidious care. He meant to play a straight game, although it would cost him much to let her win.

By and by the miner picked up some of the bits of stone.

”Weight's all right; guess the stuff's carrying heavy metal,” he remarked. ”Still, I've seen a lode pinch out. It may be a pocket and the dirt run poor when you get farther in.”

”It's possible,” Thirlwell agreed in a dull voice.

The miner gave him a sharp glance. ”Looks as if you wouldn't be much disappointed! Don't you _want_ the dirt to go rich?”

”Let's get on,” said Thirlwell. ”I want to fire the shot before it's dark.”

”Then watch out for my fingers,” the miner rejoined. ”When you pound her as you've been doing I like to see you keep your eye on the drill.”

They worked for some time and then Thirlwell sent for Agatha, and helping her across the creek, held up the ends of two or three fuses and a match-box.

”It's proper that you should fire the first shot. I've put in a heavy charge and we'll know something about the ore when we see the stuff the blast brings down.”

Agatha lighted the fuses and they hurried back to the shelter of the trees, where she stood with her heart beating fast. It was proper that she should be first to undertake her father's work; Thirlwell's thought was graceful. She glanced at him, but his brown face was inscrutable, although his mouth was firm. His quietness jarred; she felt angry and disappointed, as if she had been robbed of something.

For all that, she thrilled as she watched the faint sparkle of the fuse.