Down in the valley that night there was commotion and uproar for hours, but there was quiet at Silver Shield. One after another furious speeches were made in foreign tongues, speeches in which the murderous occupants of the mine buildings were doomed to an eternity of torment, and the would-be murderous element among the miners was lauded to the skies and urged to further effort. But the astonishing repulse, the fact that they had been met in the open as well as in the dark, and that a swift and sudden fire had been poured into their very midst, had shattered the nerve of men already shaken, although it later turned out that only three of their number had really been shot (two of them in the back), and that twoscore had been trampled and torn by their own people, while some thirty or more were missing, "left dead on the hill," said their fellows, in the mad rush for safety that followed the first flash. That sharp, stern order and the instant response had started the rumor that soldiers, regulars, had come up from the fort. It was pointed out that while the Transcontinental was blocked down the Run, no one had thought to cripple the Narrow Gauge over in the valley beyond. The road was open to Miners' Joy, the road by which young Breifogle had made his escape, and by this roundabout route had succor reached the besieged garrison. All that liquor and eloquence could do was tried on the raging townsmen that night, but not until broad daylight could they be induced to make another trial, and by that time few were able to keep their feet on the level. Less than half a dozen shots from each of five Winchesters had been enough, combined with darkness, to utterly rout the mass of rioters. Mindful of the lesson well learned at the Point--to instantly follow a staggering blow--Graham had sprung from his cover, called to his fellows to "come on," and so, shouting and shooting at the very heels of the panic, had not only chased them in headlong flight, but, returning, had picked up half a dozen terrified prisoners and herded them back to Nolan for such reassurance and comfort as that grim old trooper saw fit to administer. When morning broke the depths of the valley were still shrouded in mist and gloom. Up on the heights the brilliant hues of the dawn shone far and wide on rocky peak and pinnacle and, above the wooden tower of the office building, on the fluttering folds of an American flag. That was a grewsome day on Lance Creek. Four of the mines, temporarily bereft of hands, had fired up and gone to work with such force as they had, and declined to take back the men who had quit. The managers, superintendents, bosses, and owners held council together and started out with what they termed a relief expedition to rescue the garrison of Silver Shield. They were seen as they came solemnly marching uphill, waving a white flag by way of assurance, and were met on the roadway by Nolan and Geordie. Cawker was taking a much-needed nap.