"Don't think of shooting," panted Tom, darting forward and laying
a hand on the rifle barrel to spoil the guide's aim. "Jim, it
isn't sportsmanlike to shoot a fleeing enemy in the back! Fight
fair and square, Jim---if you must fight."
There was much in this to appeal to the guide's sense of honor and
fair play. Though scowled, he lowered the rifle.
"Tom, you everlasting joker, what happened?" demanded Harry Hazelton.
"You saw for yourself, didn't you?" retorted Reade.
"Yes; but-----"
"Are you so little of an engineer that you don't know a _mine_
when you see one, Harry?"
"But how did that mine come to be there?"
"I planted it."
"When?"
"Today, when you started on your ride."
"Oh!"
"You see, Harry, I was pondering away over mining problems this
morning. As you had the only horse, that was all that there was
left for me to do. Now, you must have noticed that most of the
outcropping rock around here is of a very refractory kind?"
"Yes," nodded Hazelton.
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