"By the peace that is upon him, I believe those arms are around his soul to-night; I believe he would not be back among us if he could. "We have a right on our own account to grieve that he is gone, but not on his. He filled on earth the full measure of an honest, honorable, brave and true life. That record went before him to Summer Land. I believe it is enough and that he needs neither tears nor regrets." The Professor sat down and Corrigan then arose and went and looked long and fondly upon the upturned face. At last in a low voice he said: "Auld frind, if yees can, give me a sign some time that something was saved from this mighty wrick. I will listen for the call in the dape night. I will listen by the timbers in the dape drifts; come back if yees can and give us a hope that there will be hand clasps and wilcomes for us whin the last shift shall be worked out." So one after the other talked until the night stole away before the smile of the dawn. Harding pulled aside the curtains, and at that moment the sun, panoplied in glory, shed rosy tints all over the desert to the eastward. "See," said Harding. "It was on such a morning as this that on the desert was painted the mirage which troubled poor Wright so much, until the clearer light drove it away. Let us hope that there are no refractions of the rays to bring fear to him where he is." There was the usual inquest, and on the second day after his death, Wright was buried. After the funeral his effects were looked over; the bills were paid, a simple stone was ordered to be placed over his grave, and his money, some few hundred dollars, was divided among the hospitals of the city. CHAPTER XVIII. A few days more went by, but the old joy of the Club was no more. Wright was gone, and all that had been heard from Miller was a brief note thanking the Club for their kindness, but giving no intimation that he contemplated returning. One morning about the twenty-fifth of the month the five miners who were left went away to their work as usual, but all were unusually depressed, as though a sense of sorrow or of approaching sorrow was upon them. As said before, Brewster was working in the Bullion. Toward noon of this day word was passed down into the other mines that an accident was reported in the Bullion; some said it was a cave and some that it was a fire, but it was not certainly known. Each underground foreman and boss was instructed to see that the bulkheads, which, when closed, shut off the underground connections between the several mines, were made ready to be closed at a moment's notice, in case the accident proved to be a fire. The whisper of "fire in the mine" is a terrible one on the Comstock, for in the deeps there are dried timbers sufficient to build a great city, and once on fire they would make a roaring hell.