"We left Why-not afore daybreak, an' worked over into the canyon about sun-up. They was one big pool we hadn't covered for some time, an' we made out we'd watch that. So we worked down to it, an' clumb up into our trees, an' set out to keep guard. "In about an hour we heard a shoot some mile or so up the creek. They's no mistaking dynamite, leastways not to miners, an' we knew that shoot was dynamite an' nothing else. The Cock-eye was at work, an' we shook hands all round. Then pretty soon a fish or so began to go by--big fellows, some of 'em, dead an' floatin', with their eyes popped 'way out same as knobs--sure sign they'd been shot. "The Boss took and grit his teeth when he see a three-pounder go by, an' made remarks about Blacklock. "''Sh!' says Mary-go-round, sudden-like. 'Listen!' "We turned ear down the wind, an' sure there was the sound of some one scrabbling along the boulders by the riverside. Then we heard a pup yap. "'That's our man,' whispers the Boss. "For a long time we thought Cock-eye had quit for the day an' had coppered us again, but byne-by we heard the manzanita crack on the far side the canyon, an' there at last we see Blacklock working down toward the pool, Sloppy Weather following an' yapping and cayoodling just as a fool dog will. "Blacklock comes down to the edge of the water quiet-like. He lays his big scoop-net an' his sack--we can see it half full already--down behind a boulder, and takes a good squinting look all round, and listens maybe twenty minutes, he's that cute, same's a coyote stealing sheep. We lies low an' says nothing, fear he might see the leaves move. "Then byne-by he takes his stick of dynamite out his hip pocket--he was just that reckless kind to carry it that way--an' ties it careful to a couple of stones he finds handy. Then he lights the fuse an' heaves her into the drink, an' just there's where Cock-eye makes the mistake of his life. He ain't tied the rocks tight enough, an' the loop slips off just as he swings back his arm, the stones drop straight down by his feet, and the stick of dynamite whirls out right enough into the pool. "Then the funny business begins. "Blacklock ain't made no note of Sloppy Weather, who's been sizing up the whole game an' watchin' for the stick. Soon as Cock-eye heaves the dynamite into the water, off goes the pup after it, just as he'd been taught to do by the car-boys. "'Hey, you fool dog!' yells Blacklock.