But, once back at the buildings, Nolan left to Cawker and his guard the pleasure of receiving the crowd from across the creek. He and Geordie were needed at once at the lookout on top of the office, the little tower above which fluttered the flag. Down on the platform anxious faces were upturned, for the sentry had seen a countless throng of men, so he said, coming over from Miners' Joy. To Cawker and his fellows it meant but one thing: The miners in the northward valley, more numerous than these along Lance Creek, reinforced, probably, by a swarm of the idlers from Hatch's Cove, were coming to the aid of their friends and fellow-countrymen in the strike at Silver Shield. For two miles out the road from the village meandered up a winding ravine, then went twisting and turning along the eastward face of the mountain until it dipped out of sight over the massive divide. Down in the depths of the gorge little dots of men could be seen hurrying away up the trail as though going to meet the coming concourse. Away out along the mountain-side not to exceed three or four vehicles and a scant dozen of horsemen could dimly be made out, crawling slowly southward, coming gingerly towards them. Where, then, was the "countless throng"? "They were in sight on yonder ridge," said the lookout, "not ten minutes ago. They must be hiding in the hollows, waiting for the others to catch up," whereupon Nolan, looking daggers, had called him a scarehead, and Geordie shouted for Cawker's glass. It was sent up the stairway in less than a minute and focussed on Porphyry Point, a massive buttress overhanging the farther valley. For long seconds Geordie steadied the binocular against the staff and peered silently through. At last he said: "Some riders and two or three livery-rigs are coming, but I see no men afoot." Then, turning over his shoulder to Cawker, standing in the midst of his friends and fellow-managers, and looking eagerly aloft, he called: "Better have dinner now, if it's ready. It will take 'em an hour to get here." "Who is that young fellow, anyhow?" asked Townsend, of the Vanguard Mine, and the ears of a score of men awaited the answer. "That young feller," said Cawker, in low tone, and impressively, "was a stranger to every one here, except old Nolan and Shiner, just twenty-four hours ago. Now there ain't one of 'em but swears by him. I don't know him from Adam, and Nolan won't tell, but, gentlemen--that young feller's a dandy!" And this of a youth in grimy cap, flannels, and overalls, with a pair of smouched soldier gauntlets hiding the white of his hands, and a coating of coal-dust and smudge hiding all but the clear, healthy white of his eyes! But an hour later came at least partial enlightenment. Picking their way, afoot and a few in saddle, welcomed by shouts from the lately besieged, and escorted by a deputation sent forward to meet them, there began to arrive certain citizens well known to the neighborhood by name and reputation.