the trail of the white mule-第9部分

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also　gathered　wood　and　helped　himself　to　two　sticks　of　dynamite；
three　caps　and　eighteen　inches　of　fuse。　　Not　enough　to　be　missed
unless　they　checked　their　supply　more　carefully　than　Casey
believed　they　did；　but　enough　for　Casey's　purpose　nevertheless。

That　night；　while　the　moon　shone　in　through　the　dingy　window　at
the　head　of　his　bunk　and　gave　him　a　little　light　to　work　by；
Casey　sat　up　in　bed　and　snored　softly　and　with　a　soothing　rhythm
while　he　cut　a　stick　of　dynamite　in　two；　capped　five　inches　of
fuse　for　each　piece　working　awkwardly　with　his　one　good　hand　and
pinching　the　caps　tight　with　his　teeth；　which　might　have　sent　him
with　a　bang　into　Kingdom　Comeand　very　carefully　worked　the　caps
into　the　powder　until　no　more　than　three　inches　of　fuse　protruded
from　the　end　of　the　half　stick。　　It　would　have　been　less
dangerous　to　land　with　a　yell　in　the　middle　of　the　floor　and
fight　the　three　men　with　one　bare　hand；　but　Casey's　courage　never
turned　a　hair。

Still　snoring　mildly；　he　held　up　to　the　moonlight　two　deadly
weapons　and　surveyed　them　with　much　satisfaction。　　They　would　not
be　so　quick；　as　fiction　would　have　them；　but　if　his　aim　was
accurate　in　throwing；　they　would　be　deadly　enough。　　Moreover；　he
could　count　with　a　good　deal　of　certainty　upon　a　certain　degree
of　terror　which　the　sight　of　them　in　his　hand　would　produce。

When　Casey　Ryan　cooked　breakfast　next　morning；　he　carried　two
half…sticks　of　loaded　dynamite　under　his　hand　in　the　sling。　Can
you　wonder　that　even　he　shied　at　standing　over　the　stove　cooking
hot　cakes　and　complained　that　his　broken　hand　pained　him　a　lot
and　that　the　heat　made　it　worse？　　But　a　shrewd　observer　would
have　noticed　on　his　face　the　expression　of　a　cat　that　has　been
shut　in　the　pantry　over　night。

Joe　volunteered　to　take　another　look　at　the　hand　and　see　if　blood
poison　was　〃setting　in〃；　but　Casey　said　it　didn't　feel　like　blood
poison。　　He　had　knocked　it　against　the　bunk　edge　in　his　sleep；　he
declared。　　He'd　dose　'er　with　iodine　after　a　while；　and　she'd　be
all　right。

Joe　let　it　go　at　that；　being　preoccupied　with　other　matters　at
which　Casey　could　only　guess。　　He　conferred　with　Paw　outside　the
dugout　after　breakfast；　called　Hank　away　from　the　dish…washing
and　the　three　set　off　toward　the　tunnel　with　a　brisker　air　than
usually　accompanied　them　to　work。　　Casey　watched　them　go　and　felt
reasonably　sure　of　at　least　two　hours　to　himself。

The　first　thing　Casey　did　after　he　had　made　sure　that　he　was
actually　alone　was　to　remove　the　deadly　stuff　from　the　sling　and
lay　it　on　a　shadowed　shelf　where　it　would　be　safe　but　convenient
to　his　hand。　Then；　going　to　his　bunk；　he　reached　under　the
blankets　and　found　the　other　stick　of　dynamite　which　he　had　not
yet　loaded。　　This　he　laid　on　the　kitchen　table　and　cut　it　in　two
as　he　had　done　last　night　with　the　other　stick。　　With　his
remaining　cap　he　loaded　a　half　and　carried　it　back　to　his　bunk。　
He　was　debating　in　his　mind　whether　it　was　worth　while　purloining
another　cap　from　a　box　under　the　boulder　when　another　fancy　took
him　and　set　him　grinning。

Four　separate　charges　of　dynamite；　he　reasoned；　would　not　be
necessary。　It　was　an　even　chance　that　the　sight　of　a　piece　with
the　fuse　in　his　hand　would　be　sufficient　to　tame　Paw　or　Hank　or
Joeor　the　three　together；　for　that　matterwithout　going
further　than　to　give　them　a　sight　of　it。

With　that　idea　uppermost；　Casey　split　the　paper　carefully　down
the　side　of　the　remaining　half…stick；　took　out　the　contents　in　a
tin　plate　and　carried　it　outside　where　he　buried　it　in　the　sand
beneath　a　bush。　　Returning　to　the　dugout　he　made　a　thick　dough　of
leftover　pancake　batter　and　molded　it　into　the　dynamite　wrapping
with　a　fragment　of　harmless　fuse　protruding　from　the　opened　end。　
When　the　thing　was　dry；　Casey　thought　it　would　look　very　deadly
and　might　be　useful。　　After　several　days　of　helplessness　for　want
of　a　weapon；　Casey　was　in　a　mood　to　supply　himself　generously。

He　finished　the　dish…washing；　working　awkwardly　with　one　hand。
After　that　he　put　a　kettle　of　beans　on　to　boil；　filled　the　stove
with　pinon　sticks　and　closed　the　drafts。　　He　armed　himself　with
the　two　loaded　pieces　of　dynamite　from　the　cupboard；　filled　his
pockets　with　such　other　things　as　he　thought　he　might　need；　and
went　prospecting　on　his　own　account。

At　the　portal　of　the　tunnel　he　stopped　and　listened　for　the
ping…g；　ping…g　of　a　single…jack　striking　steadily　upon　steel。　
But　the　tunnel　was　silent；　the　ore　car　uptilted　at　the　end　of　its
track　on　the　dump。　Yet　the　three　men　were　supposedly　at　work　in
the　mine；　had　talked　at　breakfast　about　wanting　to　show　a　certain
footage　when　the　boss　returned；　and　of　needing　to　hurry。

Casey　went　into　the　tunnel；　listening　and　going　silently；　sounds
travel　far　in　underground　workings。　　At　the　mouth　of　the　first
right…hand　drift　he　stopped　again　and　listened。　　This；　if　he
would　believe　Joe；　was　the　drift　where　the　bad　ground　had　caused
the　accident　to　Joe　and　his　partner　whose　leg　had　been　broken。　
Casey　found　the　drift　as　silent　as　the　main　tunnel。　　He　went　in
ten　feet　or　so　and　lighted　the　candle　he　had　pulled　from　inside
his　shirt。　With　the　candle　held　in　the　swollen　fingers　of　his
injured　hand；　and　a　prospector's　pick　taken　from　the　portal　in
his　other；　Casey　went　on　cautiously；　keeping　an　eye　upon　the　roof
which；　to　his　wise；　squinting　eyes；　looked　perfectly　solid　and
safe。

If　a　track　had　ever　been　laid　in　this　drift　it　had　long　since
been　removed。　　But　a　well…defined　path　led　along　its　center　with
boot　tracks　going　and　coming；　blurring　one　another　with　much
passing。　Casey　grinned　and　went　on；　his　ears　cocked　for　any　sound
before　or　behind；　his　shoes　slung　over　his　arm　by　their　tied
laces。

So　he　came；　in　the　course　of　a　hundred　feet　or　so；　to　a　crude
door　of　split　cedar　slabs；　the　fastening　padlocked　on　his　side。　
Casey　had　vaguely　expected　some　such　bar　to　his　path；　and　he
merely　gave　a　grunt　of　satisfaction　that　the　lock　was　old　and　on
his　side　of　the　door。

With　his　jackknife　Casey　speedily　took　off　one　side　of　the　lock
and　opened　it。　　Making　the　door　appear　locked　behind　him　when　he
had　passed　through　was　a　different　matter；　and　Casey　did　not
attempt　it。　　Instead；　he　merely　closed　the　door　behind　him；
carrying　the　padlock　in　with　him。

As　Casey　reviewed　his　situation；　being　on　the　butte　at　all　was　a
risk　in　itself。　　One　detail　more　or　less　could　not　matter　so
much。　Besides；　he　was　a　bold　Casey　Ryan　with　two　loaded
half…sticks　of　dynamite　in　his　sling。

A　crude　ladder　against　the　wall　of　a　roomy　stope　beyond　the　door
did　not　in　the　least　surprise　him。　　He　had　expected　something　of
this　sort。　　When　he　had　topped　the　ladder　and　found　himself　in　a
chamber　that　stretched　away　into　blackness；　he　grunted　again　his
mental　confirmation　of　a　theory　working　out　beautifully　in　fact。
His　candle　held　close　to　the　wall；　he　moved　forward　along　the
well…trodden　path；　looking　for　a　door。　　Mechanically　he　noticed
also　the　formation　of　the　wall　and　the　vein　of　oreprobably
high…grade　in　pockets；　at　leastthat　had　caused　this　chamber　to
be　dug。　　The　ore；　he　judged；　had　long　since　been　taken　out　and
down　through　the　stope　into　the　tunnel　and　so　out　through　the
main　portal。　These　workings　were　old　and　for　mining　purposes
abandoned。　　But　just　now　Casey　was　absorbed　in　solving　the　one
angle　of　the　mystery　which　he　had　stumbled　upon　at　first；　and　he
gave　no　more　than　a　glance　and　a　thought　to　the　silent　testimony
of　the　rock　walls。

He　found　the　door；　fastened　also　on　the　outside　just　as　he　had
expected　it　would　be。　　Beside　it　stood　a　rather　clever　heating
apparatus　which　Casey　did　not　examine　in　detail。　　His　Irish　heart
was　beating　rather　fast　while　he　unfastened　the　door。　　Beyond
that　door　his　thoughts　went　questing　eagerly　but　he　hesitated
nevertheless　before　he　lifted　his　knuckles　and　rapped。

There　was　no　reply。　　Casey　waited　a　minute；　knocked　again；　then
pulled　the　door　open　a　crack　and　looked　in。　　The　old　woman　sat
there　rocking　back　and　forth；　steadily；　quietly。　　But　her　thin
fingers　were　rolling　a　corner　of　her　apron　hem　painstakingly；　as
if　she　meant　to　hem　it　again。　　Her　eyes　were　fixed　absently　upon
the　futile　task。　　Casey　watched　her　as　long　as　he　dared　and
cleared　his　throat　twice　in　the　hope　that　she　would　notice　him。
But　the　old　woman　rocked　back　and　forth　and　rolled　her　apron　hem；
unrolled　it　and　carefully　rolled　it　again。

〃Good　morning；　ma'am；〃　said　Casey；　clearing　his　throat　for　the
third　time　and　coming　a　step　into　the　room　with　his　candle
dripping　wax　on　the　floor。

For　just　an　instant　the　uneasy　fingers　paused　in　their　rolling　of
the　apron　hem。　　For　just　so　long　the　rockers　hesitated　in　their
motion。　　But　the　old　woman　did　not　reply　nor　turn　her　face　toward
him；　and　Casey　pushed　the　door　shut　behind　him　and　took　two　more
steps　toward　her。

〃I　come　to　see　if　yuh　needed　anything；　ma'am；　a　friend；　mebbe。〃
Casey　grinned　amiably；　wanting　to　reassure　her　if　it　were
possible　to　make　her　aware　of　his　presence。　　〃They　had　yuh　locked
in；　ma'am。　That　don't　look　good　to　Casey　Ryan。　　If　yuh　wanta　get
outif　they　got　yuh　held　a　prisoner　here；　or　anything　like
'that；　you　can　trust　Casey　Ryan　any　old　time。　Iscan　I　do
anything　for　yuh；　ma'am？〃　The　old　woman　dropped　her　hands　to　her
lap　and　held　them　there；　closely　clasped。　　Her　head　swung　slowly
round　until　she　was　looking　at　Casey　with　that　awful；　fixed　stare
she　had　heretofore　directed　at　the　wall　or　the　floor。

〃Tell　those　hell…hounds　they　have　a　thousand　years　to　burnevery
one　of　them！〃　she　said　in　a　deep；　low　voice　that　had　in　it　a
singing　resonance　like　a　chant。　　〃Every　cat；　every　rat；　every
mouse；　every　louse；　has　a　thousand　year's　to　burn。　　Tell　Mart　the
hounds　of　hell　must　burn！〃　　Her　voice　carried　a　terrible
condemnation　far　beyond　the　meaning　of　the　words　themselves。　　It
was　as　if　she　were　pronouncing　the　doom　of　the　whole　world。　
〃Every　cat；　every　rat；　every　mouse；　every　louse〃

Casey　Ryan's　jaw　dropped　an　inch。　　He　backed　until　he　was　against
the　door。　　He　had　to　swallow　twice　before　he　could　find　his
voice；　and　those　of　you　who　know　Casey　Ryan　will　appreciate　that。　
He　waited　until　she　had　finished　her　decla