“Yes, he was here. He wanted a job in the mines. Said he didn’t think he was cut out for office work. But somehow or other I didn’t like his looks. Is he a friend of yours?”
“He is not!” declared Dave quickly. “In fact, he is just the opposite. And what is more, he is a thief and has served a term in prison.”
“You don’t say!” exclaimed the mine manager. “Are you sure of this?”
“Positive, sir. His real name is Nicholas Jasniff. Some years ago he and another fellow stole some valuable jewels from a jewelry works. I aided in capturing him and sending him to prison.”
“Humph! If that’s the case I am glad I didn’t hire him. As I said before, I didn’t like his looks at all, and out here we go about as much on looks as we do on anything.”
“He came to our camp, but Mr. Obray soon sent him about his business,” said Dave.
After talking the matter over for a few minutes longer, but without mentioning the attack on the trail, Dave rode away. At the end of the street he stopped at a general store, which contained a drug department, and while giving his horse a chance to feed, there obtained some liniment with which he rubbed his lame shoulder and his hurt ankle. Then, having obtained a bottle of lemon-soda with which to quench his thirst, and help along his supper when he should stop to eat it, our hero set off on the return to the construction camp.
By the time Dave reached the spot where the encounter with Jasniff had occurred, it was growing somewhat dark on the trail. Over to the westward the mountains were much taller than those where the trail ran, and the deep shadows were creeping upward from the valley below. Soon the orb of day sank out of sight, and then the darkness increased.
So far on the return Dave had met but two men—old prospectors who had paid scant attention to him as he passed. He had stopped at a convenient point to eat what remained of the lunch he had brought along, washing it down with the lemon-soda. Presently he came to a fork in the trail, and by a signboard placed there knew that he was now less than four miles from the construction camp.
The hard ride had tired the young civil engineer greatly, and he was glad enough to let Sport move forward on a walk. The horse, too, had found the journey a hard one, and was well content to progress at a reduced rate of speed.