The cabin was as securely built as a fortress, of the rugged stone which had been blasted from the rocks in opening the mine. The mine itself was situated about five hundred yards to the south of this edifice, but instead of being dug downwards, as Stranleigh expected, it extended westward on the level toward the heart of the mountain, so that a rudely built truck could carry out the débris, and dump it down the steep hill. To his æsthetic fancy this seemed a pity, because a short distance south from the opening of the mine, the river formed a cascade descending a hundred feet or more; a cascade of entrancing beauty, whose loveliness would be more or less destroyed as the mining operations progressed. The rising sun illumined the tunnel to its final wall, and Stranleigh found no difficulty in exploring it to the remotest corner. He passed the abandoned truck partly turned over beside an assortment of picks, shovels, hand-drills and the like. To his unpractised eye there was no sign of silver on walls, floor or ceiling. At the extreme end was piled up a quantity of what appeared to be huge cartridges. Before entering the cavern he had noticed three or four of the miners standing in front of the bunk house, evidently watching him, but he paid no attention to them, and while he was inside, the roar of the cataract prevented him from hearing approaching footsteps. As he came out to the lip of the mine, he found Jim and three others waiting for him. Each had a rifle on his shoulder. "Inspecting the property?" said Jim, casually. "Yes," replied Stranleigh. "What do you think of it?" "My opinion would be of very little value. I know nothing of mining." "The deuce you don't!" said Jim. "What are you doing with that lump of rock in your hand?" "Oh, that," said Stranleigh, "I happened to pick up. I wanted to examine it in clear daylight. Is there silver in it?" "How should I know?" replied Jim, gruffly. "I'm not a mining engineer. I only take a hand at the drill or the pick, as the case may be. But when you throw that back where you got it, throw it carefully, and not too far." "I don't intend to throw it," said Stranleigh. "I'm going to take it down to the house." "Oh, you think you're not going to throw it, but you are. We've just come up to explain that to you." "I see. If it is compulsory, why shouldn't I throw it as far as I can?" "Because," explained Jim, politely, "there's a lot of dynamite stored in the end of that hole, and dynamite isn't a thing to fool with, you know." Stranleigh laughed. "I rather fancy you're right, though I know as little about dynamite as I do about mines. But to be sure of being on the right side, I will leave the tossing of the stone to you. Here it is," whereupon he handed the lump of rock to Jim, who flung it carelessly into the mine again, but did not join in his visitor's hilarity. "You seem to regard me as a dangerous person?"