While Louise was drilling and putting forth all her strength in work that would have tried the courage of the hardiest miner, her father would take turns with her, and again he would measure the distance from the shaft to see how much farther they had to drift. It was late in the evening, and they had been working on some time in silence, when the Colonel, after making a last measurement, shouted out in the stillness, “Well finish it to-night! Bring the powdeh, while I drill!” and presently another blast resounded like a death knell to hope, tearing away great sections of the adamantine rock. On, on they worked—drilling and blasting. Louise had become well-nigh exhausted, and rested for a moment, when the Colonel shouted: “Drill on! Drill on! There’s no time to lose!” “But, father,” cried Louise, “the powder is all gone. Shall we not send the engineer for more? There’s hardly enough for more than another blast.” “No!” yelled the Colonel, almost like a maniac in vehemence, “I have no money fo’ mo’ powdeh. [228] Let us use what we have. Scrape the cans and put it all in one great blast. I will drill.” 0236 Louise was frightened. She feared her father was losing his mind. It might be, after all, that instead of benefitting him by her constant encouragement and belief in Gray Rocks, she had but added to his vain hallucination, and the shock of another failure might dethrone his reason. While she was thinking, she industriously applied herself to gathering from the different cans that had contained the giant powder all that was left into one. Yes, there was enough for one more blast, but not enough for two. “Where is the powdeh?” cried the Colonel. She looked at her father, whose face was almost as white as the disheveled hair of his uncovered head. He had thrown aside his hat and coat, and was wrought up to the highest pitch of excitement. “A moment, father,” said Louise, laying her hand on his arm. “Let me alone, I have no time to wait,” he said. “But listen, father, won’t you? Listen to me just a moment.” “Well, what is it?” said he, impatiently, wiping the perspiration from his brow. “For thirteen years, father, you’ve been striving and striving to find gold in Gray Rocks; what if you are no nearer now than you were thirteen years ago? Will you be so terribly disappointed, father? Come, tell me you will not.” She had her arms about his neck and was looking pleadingly up into his face. He pushed her from him. “Yo’ talk as if yo’ [229] doubted,” said he. “I’m thirteen years nearer success to-night than the day I commenced. It’s vehy humiliatin’ to me to think that yo’, Louise, should doubt yo’r old father’s judgment. Have yo’ forgotten that my blood cou’ses in yo’r veins? Are yo’, too, turnin’ against me at the vehy last?”