"No? Well, it seems a mining concern has found something. At any rate men are at work, a tunnel has been driven into the base of the ridge, and—I wonder what would happen if a charge of dynamite went off in due time and blew a hole right through, into the lake?"
"Good heaven!" cried Shandon angrily. "You mean that Hume and Leland are actually trying to steal my water?"
"I don't think Leland is in on this," replied Kinsell quietly. "He doesn't seem to me to be quite the crook Hume is."
"But," muttered Shandon, "if they once tear the side of that mountain out—"
"The milk will be spilt so badly that it cannot be put back into the pan? And the mining company, a Chicago firm, I believe, at any rate a crowd of men hired by a Chicago man, will claim that they were on their territory all of the time; that not one of their men, but some man hired by you, put in the charges that did the damage. It's a bold play, but then when it's make or break with a man he hasn't much picking and choosing to do."
"It won't take me long to get there," said Shandon grimly. "And I'm getting tired of this thing."
"But, surely," smiled Kinsell, "you don't object to having Hume pay for a part of the work you'll have to do soon or late, do you? Let him go ahead. Just before they get ready to do the real damage, we'll slap a little injunction on them."
"But how will we know?"
"That's all right. One of their foremen is drawing wages from you right now. You'll find a lot of interesting things in the expense account I put in, Mr. Shandon."