"You see how it is," Steele began as he and Ross were carrying the cases of dynamite "sticks" up the trail to the tunnel in which Weimer was doing the assessment work for the four tracts to which he had laid claim. "Mentally Weimer has become suddenly an old and childish man while retaining all his physical powers. He can do the work of two ordinary men if he can be made to work--and it's up to you to compel him. Otherwise, by the first of next July, at the time when these claims ought to be patented, you will have to forfeit 'em." Ross's heart sank. "The first of next July," and it was then but the middle of October! He laid the case of sticks down on the ore-dump, and, glancing up at the peaks which held him a prisoner, caught his breath in a gust of rebellion. At the mouth of the tunnel, some seven feet high and eight wide, was the "dump," to the edge of which ran a rusty track with a "bumper" at the end. The track extended into the tunnel. On it stood a lumbering vehicle, consisting of the trucks of a hand car, on which was fastened a home-made box to carry ore. "This," explained Steele, "is a remnant of Weimer's better days. There was no way to pack a regular car over here, and he devised this. He was a smart man until last year." After dinner, which Weimer prepared,--Ross found him always ready to prepare food and eat it,--Steele suggested that they "drop in" on the McKenzies. "Especially," he added, his eyes scanning Ross's face, "after your meeting Sandy on the way to Cody." Ross hesitated. "I don't know about that," he objected, surprised that Steele should suggest such a thing. "Wouldn't it be a bit queer for me to call on my 'friends the enemy'?" Steele laughed, but held strongly to his point. "Not queer at all. There's no object in not being on a speakin'-footing with 'em," he said. "There's nothing to be gained and a lot to be lost by openly recognizing what they're waiting for. You're goin' to get almighty lonesome up here,"--involuntarily Ross swallowed, and turned his face away,--"and that Sandy McKenzie is good company--on the surface. I can't say as much for the other, Waymart, but he'll pass." The sun was shining warmly when they left Weimer's cabin. The snow above the narrow loam-paved trail was melting and running in rivulets down to the creek. Overhead the spruce boughs met, and laced their green fingers together, sending down a damp, spicy odor. Near the McKenzie cabin Steele paused and looked up the mountainside. A few rods away the earth was thrown up around some tree stumps whose tops had been recently cut off. "You see," he explained in a low tone to Ross, "the McKenzies are supposed to be over here working some claims that they staked out last spring. But look there! They haven't got the discovery hole finished yet!"