During the next few weeks, all days seemed alike to Ross except Sunday. Early each Sunday morning he struck the trail for Miners' Camp, the post-office, and Steele's shack. At first he crept shudderingly over that quarter mile around the shoulder of Crosby. But soon his head lost every sense of giddiness, and his legs regained their accustomed strength, and his heart ceased to beat agitatedly at sight of the thousand-feet fall. On the third Sunday he came into Steele's shack with a brighter face than he had worn before. [Illustration: HE STRUCK THE TRAIL] "Things are sort of righting themselves," he reported over a hot elk steak. "I'm getting Weimer down to work in dead earnest," chuckling. "I hold the McKenzie boys before his mind's eye continually, and roll that car out, and dump it so quickly that he has to step lively to get enough ore picked out and blasted out to fill it." Steele whistled when Ross told him how many cubic feet had been taken out of the Weimer-Grant tunnel during the week. He took from his pocket a paper and pencil, and fell to figuring. Ross pushed aside the empty dishes, and, leaning across the table, looked on with interest. He, too, had figured extensively since work began on Meadow Creek, but only during the last week had the figures satisfied him. "Why, man alive!" cried Steele after a few moments' silent work, "you'll fetch it, at this rate." He stretched his hand across the table impetuously, and gripped Ross's, adding, "I thought you could never do it--even with a backbone." Ross's shoulders straightened, and his face flushed boyishly. "We _must_ fetch it!" Steele leaned back, and drummed on the table. "What about the McKenzies? Of course they must know what progress you've made." "Well," exclaimed Ross, "I hope I can keep 'em so interested guessing that they'll stay all winter. They come over as socially as you please about every evening. Weimer doesn't like it much. He has no use for 'em, but I have, you bet! I'm glad to have 'em around, especially now when I can estimate that at the present rate of speed the tunnel will be ready so we can apply for a patent by June." To Dr. and Mrs. Grant, Ross wrote: "It's going to be a long pull and a strong pull, but I shall stick to the ship and show father that I can do something else besides setting a bone.