with an unpaid account at Skinner's.Consequently,there was nothing in Key's party to challenge curiosity.In another week a rambling,one-storied shed of pine logs occupied the site of the mysterious ruins,and contained the party;in two weeks excavations had been made,and the whole face of the outcrop was exposed;in three weeks every vestige of former tenancy which the fire had not consumed was trampled out by the alien feet of these toilers of the "Sylvan Silver Hollow Company."None of Key's former companions would have recognized the hollow in its blackened leveling and rocky foundation;even Collinson would not have remembered this stripped and splintered rock,with its heaps of fresh debris,as the place where he had overtaken Key.And Key himself had forgotten,in his triumph,everything but the chance experiment that had led to his success.
Perhaps it was well,therefore,that one night,when the darkness had mercifully fallen upon this scene of sylvan desolation,and its still more incongruous and unsavory human restoration,and the low murmur of the pines occasionally swelled up from the unscathed mountain-side,a loud shout and the trampling of horses'feet awoke the dwellers in the shanty.Springing to their feet,they hurriedly seized their weapons and rushed out,only to be confronted by a dark,motionless ring of horsemen,two flaming torches of pine knots,and a low but distinct voice of authority.
In their excitement,half-awakened suspicion,and confusion,they were affected by its note of calm preparation and conscious power.
"Drop those guns--hold up your hands!We've got every man of you covered."Key was no coward;the men,though flustered,were not cravens:but they obeyed."Trot out your leader!Let him stand out there,clear,beside that torch!"One of the gleaming pine knots disengaged itself from the dark circle and moved to the centre,as Preble Key,cool and confident,stepped beside it.
"That will do,"said the immutable voice."Now,we want Jack Riggs,Sydney Jack,French Pete,and One-eyed Charley."A vivid reminiscence of the former night scene in the hollow--of his own and his companions voices raised in the darkness--flashed across Key.With an instinctive premonition that this invasion had something to do with the former tenant,he said calmly:--"Who wants them?"
"The State of California,"said the voice.
"The State of California must look further,"returned Key in his old pleasant voice;"there are no such names among my party.""Who are you?"
"The manager of the 'Sylvan Silver Hollow Company,'and these are my workmen.
There was a hurried movement,and the sound of whispering in the hitherto dark and silent circle,and then the voice rose again:
"You have the papers to prove that?"
"Yes,in the cabin.And you?"
"I've a warrant to the sheriff of Sierra."
There was a pause,and the voice went on less confidently:--"How long have you been here?"
"Three weeks.I came here the day of the fire and took up this claim.""There was no other house here?"
"There were ruins,--you can see them still.It may have been a burnt-up cabin."The voice disengaged itself from the vague background and came slowly forwards:--"It was a den of thieves.It was the hiding-place of Jack Riggs and his gang of road agents.I've been hunting this spot for three weeks.And now the whole thing's up!"There was a laugh from Key's men,but it was checked as the owner of the voice slowly ranged up beside the burning torch and they saw his face.It was dark and set with the defeat of a brave man.
"Won't you come in and take something?"said Key kindly.
"No.It's enough fool work for me to have routed ye out already.
But I suppose it's all in my d--d day's work!Good-night!Forward there!Get!"The two torches danced forwards,with the trailing off of vague shadows in dim procession;there was a clatter over the rocks and they were gone.Then,as Preble Key gazed after them,he felt that with them had passed the only shadow that lay upon his great fortune;and with the last tenant of the hollow a proscribed outlaw and fugitive,he was henceforth forever safe in his claim and his discovery.And yet,oddly enough,at that moment,as he turned away,for the first time in three weeks there passed before his fancy with a stirring of reproach a vision of the face that he had seen at the window.