"You get to a loop-hole and 'tend to that," snapped he. "I'll 'tend to my business," and he turned to Long Nolan, just heaving up from a peep-hole, for support and approval. Nolan he knew for a soldier of old. He had learned to respect him quite as much as he jealously feared, and Nolan's answer took him utterly aback:
"You do as he tells you and do it quick. He knows his business better'n ever you'll begin to know yours."
CHAPTER XI[ToC]
A NIGHT ON GUARD
Two minutes more, with eight men to back him, George Graham was knocking or sawing out holes in the blacksmith-shop, and presently a man with a reliable Winchester was crouched by each opening watching the next move of the foe. The shop was perched at the edge of a flat-topped "dump", commanding the rocky slopes to the roadway on one side, the hill on the other. It was exposed to shots from below, yet the hardest to reach by direct assault. In the larger building a bit farther back, the compressor-house, Cawker and four others were stationed, guarding the approach from the north. The manager had taken Nolan's broad hint, and the subsequent orders, with one long look of amaze, then with the light of comprehension in his eyes and the silence of consent on his lips. Did he not know that the main charge against Nolan had been loyalty to his old comrades rather than his new employers? Did he not know, or at least more than suspect, that the company was trying to "freeze out" the distant holders? Did he not know, down in his heart, that it was out and out robbery? And now, in spite of youth and disguise, the manager saw in this masterful stranger one of the very elements the owners had sought to keep at a distance and in ignorance of true conditions. So far from resenting, he now thanked God for his coming. What else could explain Nolan's deference—Nolan, the most independent and self-respecting man at the mines? What else could it mean but that this youth was one of his officers—men skilled and schooled in warfare if not in mining—men taught to face danger with stout heart and stubborn front? All in the space of a few seconds the truth had flashed upon Cawker. It might not be just what the owners would want, thought he, but it's almighty good for us all.
Nolan, with a handful of men, still clung to the stoutest of the buildings. It stood without the entrance to the ravine in which had been discovered the outcropping that started the fame of Silver Shield. In this, also, stood two other buildings, but these were so far from the outer shop that flames need not be feared. Nolan was to care for the wounded and guard the outward approach, and all three were in close support of each other. Whoever managed to rush that little group of buildings would know, if he lived, that he had been through a fight.
And now it was after six of the long summer day. The rioters had received a wholesome lesson in the volley that met their first attempt to swarm up from the south. They had gone tumbling and cursing back to shelter, with three men wounded and many of the others badly scared, and now were being harangued by their vociferous leader, and hundreds had come to hear. Graham turned to the young Slav who had borne the first news to Nolan. "Creep out there as far as you can," he ordered, "listen to what is said, and tell me. They cannot reach you." But the frightened lad crouched and whimpered. He dared not.