“No?” The engineer flashed an amused smile. “Son, if you’re here long enough, you may find their lure irresistible. Many a murder has been committed for an emerald—here at this mine too.”
“Appleby Corning being the latest victim?”
“Carlos has preyed upon this mine for years,” Rhodes replied, not answering Jack’s question directly. “He’s a bad actor.”
“Why doesn’t someone clean out his gang?”
“This isn’t the United States,” Rhodes retorted. “The authorities can’t be bothered. Now will you move out and stop asking so many questions? You hinder me.”
Jack nodded and climbed out of the pit, but not before he had made careful note of the fallen workman. He would remember the face. Later, if he approached the matter right, the man might talk.
Leaving the pit, he sought his companions, who had pitched their tents in a sheltered area some distance from the huts.
“Learn anything, Jack?” Ken accosted him as he came up.
“Not yet. Rhodes drove me out of the mine.”
“We took a look at that hut Rhodes assigned to us,” Willie informed him in disgust. “It’s the worst looking hole in the place. We figure he wanted to make it as tough as possible for us.”