"How?" he asked eagerly.
"Make Brent go out every day till the work is done—then I've a plan for you."
"What?" he was growing very much excited.
"Sh," she laughed. "I'll tell you some other time. Now go up and dress; dinner will be ready in half an hour."
As he sprang to obey, a glance at his determined jaw, the enthusiasm of his stride, told her that Brent might not henceforth have such an idle time of it. His voice came in to her now.
"——and he threw all the lunch away," he was telling the Colonel, "because he said we didn't have time to eat it. I wanted to kill him; and would, if it hadn't struck me as being so darned funny! But I will say that we did more than I've ever seen done in a day—even with a trained party! What's more, we can save three miles. Dale did that, too!"
"This is encouraging, sir!" the old gentleman cried.
"It's more than that, Colonel—it's a find! Entirely disregarding the fact that I'd made a reconnaissance, he dragged me about like a toy, and finally, blest if he didn't scoot into a natural tunnel. I knew it was there, too, but never thought of following it up! We can go through it without turning a shovel of earth or shooting a stone. It not only saves the three miles I spoke of, but a terrible amount of cutting, and doesn't add a fraction to our ruling grade; bringing us out—I'll tell you where it brings us out! You know a place, about three hundred feet under a bold spur sticking to the north face of Snarly?—where a stream boils down into a sort of cave and disappears?"
"Oh, yes. That is our natural freak around this country—that and your tunnel! I know them well!"
"Well, we come out there, about two miles above this disappearing stream. It's a cinch! By the way, what becomes of that stream?"