The bodies of the two miners had been carried to the hospital, and with Hughson in charge of the hoist, the ore buckets were again coming up, when Mr. Cameron and McKay left the scene of the accident and through the darkness groped their way down the hill.
“Some one told me that he’d seen Loring drinking this evening,” said McKay.
“That explains all,” answered Mr. Cameron gruffly. “I should have known! I should have known! After the experience with men that I have had, to put a man like Loring in a position of responsibility! I am the one who is to blame for this. And yet he did seem to have pulled himself together. This will finish him, though. Mark me, McKay, before this he has been going to hell with the brakes on. Now he will run wild. Two men dead! That is a rather heavy reckoning for Mr. Stephen Loring to settle with himself. If I did not owe so much to him, I would have him in prison for to-night’s work.”
McKay nodded solemnly.
“I liked him a lot. I thought that he had different stuff in him. As you say, this will probably finish his chances; but it may,” he hesitated, “it may make a man out of him. If this don’t, God himself can’t help him.”
“What were the names of the men?” asked Mr. Cameron.
“Marques was one. He used to work for me. The other was a new man, Duran, or Doran, some one said was his name.”
“Were they married?” queried Mr. Cameron.
“No.”