Herman Cyril McNeile

“ I used a piece of wood as a brake, and then I saw Jim's play. He was still fifty feet below me, swaying dizzily, but as the rope checked with the brake and finally stopped, he grasped the part of it on Cornish's side of the pulley with one hand. Gradually he got both ropes into that hand—shifting his legs to help the strain. And then with his free hand he got out his claspknife.
He opened it with his teeth, and Cornish from the depths below realized what was happening. He started frenziedly shooting up the shaft, heedless now of whether he died or not, provided he got Jim too. ”

“ We had reached the top of the rise as he spoke, and he whipped up the mare. For the next ten miles the road was running level, almost straight between the two lines of low hills on each side. We could see it stretching away like a long white ribbon into the distance, flanked on each side by that interminable gray-brown scrub. At the rate we were going, it would take us an hour and a half to get through the descent to the other side and safety. ”

“ The sun was not too powerful, and Jim's jaw had sufficiently recovered to allow him to sing. The air was like wine, and after a while, under the influence of the, at any rate, powerful concert from the seat beside me, I forgot Pete Cornish. Certainly there had been no sign of him or his pal that morning, and every mile between us and Bull Mine Creek seemed to render the likelihood of trouble less probable. ”

“ But it wasn't of derelict mining ventures that either Jim or I were thinking, as the mare picked her leisurely way up the hill. And after a while he looked at me a trifle thoughtfully.
“I can't say I like it, Dick,” he said. “If one deliberately set out to find a place suited for trouble, you couldn't beat this. We're simply two slowly-traveling bull's-eyes for any man with a gun lying hidden in that stuff.” ”

“ This time it was the other shoulder, and it became increasingly obvious that Pete Cornish with a gun was not a man to be played with. Our hands went up, Jim's and mine—while Mike stood beside us helpless. And there we waited in a row while Cornish leisurely approached us. He had been joined by Yellow Sam, and they both were holding their rifles ready for an immediate shot.
“Take their guns,” ordered Cornish as he came up, and his companion disarmed us. “And now,” he continued almost gently, but with his unwinking eyes fixed on Jim, “we will go for a little walk. ”

“ Jim's revolver lay on the seat beside him, while I held mine in my hand, but in our hearts we knew it was a perfectly useless precaution. A revolver is no good at a hundred yards, and we formed a sitting shot at two hundred to a man with a rifle. ”

“ As it was—Jim being Jim, we didn't.
We saw no signs of Cornish the whole of that day. In the hotel we gathered that he was lying up somewhere paying close and earnest attention to his jaw. And in the hotel we also gathered that the general feeling of the community agreed with Bud.
“Pete Cornish ain't finished yet, pard,” said one of a group standing by the bar. “Pete Cornish won't never be finished till some public benefactor kills him. And that guy whose hand you shot last night is almost as bad—Yellow Sam.” ”

“ No man bent on lawful business would have traveled by any other track save the one we had come by. And no man bent on lawful business would have been likely to travel at all during the heat of the day. ”

“ Not the main shaft, but a ventilation. As you will see, there is no lift. But you will also note that this shaft has been used for lowering stores or something of that kind: timber, perhaps—but the point is a small one. That pulley attached to the overhead beam, which I have carefully oiled this afternoon, Mr. Maitland, is, you will perceive, immediately over the center of the shaft. Moreover, this very long coil of rope, which with some difficulty I passed over the pulley, is clearly intended to lower things to the bottom of the shaft. ”