Page thought him slightly cracked; but shook hands affably, and caught the next train for Denver. He was completely flabbergasted when an assistant whom he had deputed to superintend the removal of Bison's citizens to new spheres of labor informed him that Messrs. Power and MacGonigal were signing on the whole of the miners and mill-hands at established rates of pay, and that operations were to be started forthwith on a new strike in the Gulch. When he had recovered somewhat from the shock of this announcement he strolled into the government record offices, and examined the registry of recent mining claims. There he found that a location certificate had been obtained by John Darien Power for 1,500 feet by 300 feet on a well defined crevice, at least 10 feet deep, situated in the Gulch, Dolores Ranch, Bison, in the county of Bison and state of Colorado. Other certificates had been issued to cover more than a mile of the main contact, and, to clench the mining right, John Darien Power figured as the legal owner of the land. In a word, he was "a valid discoverer" on his own property. Page was a shrewd man, and he did not commit the error of underestimating the ability of the rival who had engineered this subtle stroke. "I'm buncoed this time, and no mistake," he muttered, and hurried back to his office, pallid with wrath and foreboding. There he met Benson, and told him what had happened. The private secretary, rather staggered at first, regained his complacency when he had glanced through some letters and cablegrams received from their common chief. "The boss has approved of every move in the game," he said, with a half-hearted laugh. "You see, here he authorizes us to take even less than MacGonigal paid for the mill, and, when Willard repaid the loan, he refused to accept it, but cabled that the money was a gift from Mrs. Marten. So I don't think he can hold us responsible." "It's not the responsibility I'm kicking at, but the smooth way in which I was bested," growled Page. "Now, who'd have thought Power had it in him?" "Well, I would, for one," said Benson. "Why, you hardly knew him." "I met him under exceptional conditions." "But how the deuce did he manage to locate that lost vein--I suppose that is what he has found?" "Perhaps it was a gift from the gods." "I do wish you'd talk sense," said the irritated manager. "What _you_ would call sense might not pass for wisdom on Olympus," smiled Benson. "Will you kindly tell me what you are driving at?" "I can't. But look here, Page--which of us is going to write this story to the boss?" "You are, and don't forget to put in those remarks of yours. They'll help some." "Shouldn't I cable? Marten may want to know of this new move." "Yes, I suppose that is the right thing to do. When you have coded the message, I'll go through it with you. There must be no mistake this time."