"Sure. But I want another look at the landscape."
"What do you expect to see?"
"I don't know," Rick admitted. "I'm just hoping for an idea."
He drove through the trees, across the picnic ground, and came to a stop before the mine shaft. There was no one in sight, and the grounds were just as they had left them.
Rick studied the scene, searching for anything offbeat, any anomaly. There was nothing, except for the iron pipe from which spring water flowed. That bothered him. Dr. Miller's explanation might be the right one, but he didn't really think so. If tailings from the mine had been dumped there, the hill would not be so steep or so regular. The years would have weathered the rock debris, but not to such a natural-looking formation.
"If they didn't dump the tailings there," he thought aloud, "where did they dump them?"
"Tailings?" Scotty prompted.
"Rock from the mine. Stuff with no ore in it, or such low-grade stuff that it was worthless."
"I see. Well, they didn't dump it in sight. But they couldn't have dumped it far from here. It wouldn't be sensible to cart worthless rock away any distance."
They hadn't used the tailings for roads around the mine. The roads were natural dirt, with good drainage and no sign of rock ballast. Rick tried to imagine another use, but couldn't, until Scotty spoke.