“You wrote that note, then, Sandy?” asked Frank.
“You’re right, I did,” replied the other, shrugging his shoulders, as if to say that after all his trouble there did not seem to have been much come from it; as an addition of two half-grown boys would hardly help matters any.
“But you didn’t say as much as you might; how was that, Sandy?”
“I’ll tell you, Frank,” replied the other. “You must understand that I feel for the men in this case. They have some cause for kicking. There are a number of things that ought to be changed; but Mr. Riley says no, and when he sets his face against a thing all heaven and earth can’t make him back water.”
“Well, perhaps there may be a way out of that, Sandy,” remarked Frank. “From what you say I imagine you wanted my dad on the ground, believing that he would see what was wrong, and change it.”
“He is a just man, and believes in the square deal. Yes,” went on the other, “I wanted him to come, and reason with the men. They are feeling pretty bitter about it now, and it wouldn’t take much to make them riot. The place is like a powder magazine, where a single spark will bring an explosion. Perhaps the very fact of your coming may bring that result, Frank!”
“Oh! I don’t think so, Sandy,” replied the boy, smilingly. “But come, let’s head for the mine. I want to get at the bottom of this matter as soon as I can. You’ve been watching the trail for an answer to the note you sent by that Indian?”
“For two days, now, Frank. And all the while the pot has kept simmering, getting hotter and hotter. The works are shut down because there’s no man to run the stamps. And we never had as big a month as the last has been. I heard Mr. Riley say it beat the record.”
He walked alongside Frank, talking as he went. Bob was keenly on the alert, knowing now that exciting events were going to happen before long.
In a little while they came to the brow of a small hill, and there, just before them, the boys could see the straggling building that represented one of the best paying gold mines in all Arizona. But no sign of smoke arose above the crusher or the stamp mill. Everywhere brooded a silence. It seemed like the ominous hush that often precedes the breaking of the storm.