"You can quit now; I butt in here!" he said, holding the iron close to Driscoll's chest. Then he turned to Drummond. "Put that cutter down! I don't: want to see you killed in my smithy."
All were quite still for a moment, and then Driscoll moved, as if he meant to get round the anvil, but the smith held him back.
"Try it again and I'll surely singe your hide!" he shouted, and swung round as he heard Drummond's cautious step. "If you sling that cutter at him, I'll put you on the fire. Get out now; I'm coming to see you go!"
Drummond backed to the door, with the red iron a few inches from his face, and when he had gone the smith signed to Driscoll.
"You're not going yet! Sit down right there and take a smoke."
A few moments later Thirlwell joined Drummond, who was waiting near the smithy. "If you mean to make trouble, I'll pay you off," he said. "You're hired to work, not to fight."
"If I quit now, Steve will get after me again," Drummond grumbled.
"I think not. In fact, I'll see about that; but if you provoke the man, you'll be fired as soon as I know. It's worth while to remember that you're a long way from the settlements."
"I got him with the cutter, anyhow," Drummond rejoined, and when he went off Thirlwell entered the smithy.
He imagined what he said to Driscoll would prevent the quarrel beginning again, and presently went back to the mine, feeling satisfied. There was now not much risk of Drummond and Driscoll making friends and finding that both knew something about the lode. Thirlwell was persuaded that Driscoll did know something, more in fact than anybody else; he knew where Strange had expected to find the ore. Thirlwell had not admitted this to Scott, because he shrank from stating his suspicions, which were dark but vague. Now, however, he thought he would try to formulate them and see how they looked, since he might, after all, take Scott into his confidence.