Berg was a man of violent temper; he choked and gasped; his face was bloated with an apoplectic rage. He began to growl curses deep in his throat. "_Who_ got it?" he demanded. "Who d'you mean by '_they_'?" "'Sh-h!" Slevin was panic-stricken; he flung out a nervous, jerky hand. "Mebbe they're here--now. Look out!" "Who d'you mean by '_they_'?" the larger man repeated. "I--God! I dunno! But there must 'a' been more'n one. Five hundred pounds! One man couldn't pack it!" "You said '_they_'!" Berg persisted in an odd tone. Slevin's madly roving gaze flew back and settled upon the discolored visage thrust toward him, then his own eyes widened. He recoiled, crying: "Look here! You don't think I--?" His words ended in a bark. "I ain't said what I think, but I'm thinkin' fast. Nobody knew it but us--" "How d'you know?" "I know." Slowly Slevin settled himself. His muscles ceased jumping, his bullet head drew down between his shoulders. "Well, it wasn't me, so it must 'a' been--_you_!" "Don't stall!" roared the larger man. "It won't win you anything. You can't leave here till you come through." "That goes double, Jack. I got my gat, too, and you ain't going to run out on me." "You wanted to quit. You weakened." "You're a liar!" The men stared fixedly at each other, heads forward, bodies tense; as they glared the fury of betrayal grew to madness. "Where'd you put it?" Berg ground the words between his teeth. "I'm askin' you that very thing," the foreman answered in a thin, menacing voice. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he widened the distance between himself and his accuser. It was not a retreat, he merely drew himself together defensively, holding himself under control with the last supreme effort of his will. The tension snapped suddenly. With a harsh, wordless cry of fury Black Jack tore his six-shooter from its resting-place. But Slevin's right hand stirred in unison and it moved like light. Owing to the fact that he carried his gun beneath his left armpit he was the first to fire, by the fraction of a second. It was impossible to miss at this distance. Berg went to his knees as if hit by a sledge. But he fired from that position, and his shot caught Slevin as the latter crow-hopped nimbly. Both men were down now. Slevin, however, seemed made of rubber; he was up again almost instantly, and zigzagging toward the shelter of the nearest rocks. Berg emptied his Colt at the running target, then a shout burst from his lips as he saw Denny pitch forward out of sight. With shaking, clumsy fingers Black Jack reloaded his hot weapon. With his left hand pressed deep into his side he rose slowly to his feet and lurched forward. "You rat!" he yelled. "Double-cross _me_, will yeh?" He heard the sound of a body moving over loose stones and halted, weaving in his tracks and peering into the gloom. "Come out!" he ordered. "Come out and own up and I'll let yeh off."