The one question which still tortured Nash’s brain was how Miss Breen had become mixed up with such a man as Macmillan. And it stood to reason that she must be, else why had she warned him last night? The more he studied over the problem, the more entangled it became, so finally he gave it up. In the two days which followed this tragedy Nash was so busily engaged in the final preparations of his “coyote” that the affair, at least for the present, was relegated to the background. This had not been his first experience with leveling off a mountaintop, but it was one presenting the greatest difficulties. Unusually hard rock had been encountered from the very beginning, an extra force of men had been engaged in the bore, and even then the work progressed slowly. It was exactly a week later that the final “shot” was touched off, and the last of the débris cleared from the tunnel. Two hundred cases of dynamite were placed in the big rock chamber, together with a hundred bags of black powder. The wires were laid about them, and carefully adjusted. Then both dynamite and powder were covered with six feet of cement and broken stone. This was allowed to harden for three days. On top of this new floor fifty cases of dynamite were placed. The first explosion would come from below, ripping away the concrete and shattering the walls. By leaving this air chamber, additional force would be created. The first explosion would explode the dynamite on the concrete floor. Nash spent most of his time at the “coyote,” overseeing the thousand and one details which were necessary to the success of the undertaking. Finally the last bag of powder was in place, and the wires carefully laid from the chamber, along the tunnel, out into daylight and across the valley--fully a mile--to the top of another hill. Here, at the given time, the batteries were to be adjusted, and the button pressed. If things happened as Nash had forecast, the top of the big mountain--those rock-strewed, pine-covered acres which had smiled into the California heavens for so many ages--would be shattered, torn into a thousand pieces at the pressure of a finger on a harmless-looking button. Nash was not to press the button himself! he conferred the honor upon the subforeman who had taken charge of the bore. Nash intended being nearer than the other men, and had already picked out his point of observation. He wanted to be close enough to determine just how the explosion acted. The day of the explosion arrived. Nash gave final orders. “We’ll make it eight o’clock to-night,” he said to the men in charge. “The moon ought to be up by that time. I wouldn’t tell too many of the men, because they might get curious, and venture too near. I don’t want any accidents.” “The batteries are all tested out,” the subforeman responded. “Everything’s in shipshape order. At eight sharp I press the button. Will you be with us, Mr. Nash?”