"Why should they?" I asked, scenting a possible source of information. "They own the ground on t' other side of ye, and ever'body allowed they owned this." "But their vein runs the other way--southeast and northwest," Gifford interposed. The old man winked his single eye. "Ever been in their workin's?" Gifford shook his head. "N'r nobody else that could 'r would talk," said our ancient. "You can't tell nothin' about which-a-way a vein runs in this here hell's half-acre. Bart Blackwell's the whole show on the Lawrenceburg, and he's a hawg. He's the one that ran them Nebraska farmers off'm the Mary Mattock down yander: give 'em notice that he was goin' to sink on them upper claims o' his'n at the gulch head, and that his sump water'd have to be turned loose to go where it had a mind to--which'd be straight down the gulch, o' course. The farmers they allowed that'd swamp 'em worse'n they was already swamped--ez it would--so they up and quit. Blackwell, he's a cuss, with a snoot like a hawg. He don't want no neighbors." I had been observing the old man's face as he talked. It was villainous only in its featurings. "Which are you; a prospector or a miner?" I asked. "A little b'ilin' o' both, I reckon," was his rejoinder. "I driv' the first tunnel in the Buckeye, and they made me boss on the two-hundred-foot level. I kin shoot rock with any of 'em's long as I kin make out to let the bug-juice alone." "Are you out of work?" "Sure thing." I caught Gifford's eye and the carpenter nodded. We were going to need men and more men, and here was a chance to begin on a man who knew the Lawrenceburg, or at least some of the history of it. "You're hired," I told him; and it was thus that we secured the most faithful and efficient henchman that ever drew pay; a man who knew nothing but loyalty, and who was, besides, a practical miner and a skilful master of men. Hicks--we carried him thus on the pay-roll, though he himself spelled it "Hix," for short, as he said--left us to go back to town for his dunnage, and Gifford, knowing that I had been on watch all night, urged me to turn in. But that was a game that two could play at. "I'm no shorter on sleep than you are," I told him. "You were up all night with the wagon." We wrangled over it a bit and I finally yielded. But first I told Gifford about the Lawrenceburg threat for the day, omitting nothing but the source of my information. "So they're going to jump us, are they?" he said. "All right; the quicker the sooner. Does Barrett know?" "Not yet. I thought we'd all get together on it this morning. Tell him when he comes back; and if anything develops before he gets here, sing out for me." And with that I made a dive for the blankets.