Vernon Parish Democrat., 1920-09-02
CHAPTER Vl-continued.

Cautiously he circled the black
cabin, every nerve taut for struggle,
every sense alert. He found nothing to
reward his search-whoever the cow
ard had been, he had disappeared
among the rocks, vanishing completely
in the black night. The fellow had not
even waited to learn the effect Of his
shot. 1t was not until he came back
to the open door that the miner
thought of his companion. What had
become of Jose? Could it be that the
Mexican was hit7 He entered, shrink
ing from the task, yet resolute to learn
the truth. A black, shapeless figure,
scarcely discernible as a man, lay
huddled beneath the table. WestcOtt
bent over it, feeling for the heart and
turning face upward. There was no
visible mark of the bullet wound, but
che body was limp, the face CHASTITY in
the grOtesque dance of the flames. The
assassin had no+ wasted his shot-Jose
Salvari would never see Mexico
again.
Westcott Strengthened the body out,
crossing the dead hands, and covered
the face with a blanket stripped from
a bunk. The brief burst of flame died
down, leaving the room in semi-dark-
ness. The miner was conscious only
of feeling of dull rage, a desire for
revenge. The shot had been clearly
intended for himself. The killing of
Jose had been a mere accident. In all
probability the murderer had crept
away believing he had succeeded in his
purpose. If he had fingered long
enough to see anyone emerge from the
hut, he would naturally imagine the
survivor to be the Mexican. Good
This very confidence would tend to
throw the fellow Off his guard he
would have no fear of Jose.
He reached beneath the blanket and
drew forth the dead Mexican's revol-
yer, slipped the weapon into his own
belt, opened the door and went out,
closing it tightly behind him. Jose
could lie there until morning. While
the darkness lasted he had work to do.
His purpose settled, there was no hes
itancy in his movements. His was the
code Of the West; his methods those
of the desert and the mountains, the
code and method of fighting man.
A dim trail, rock strewn, led to the
spring, where 1t connected with an ore
road extending down the valley to
Haskell. Another trail across the spur
shortened the distance to the La ROs-
sta shafthouse. But Westcott chose to
follow none Of these, lest he run into
some ambuscade. Slowly and silently,
cautious to dislOdge no rolling stone,
and keeping well concealed among the
rocks, he finally descended to the level
OF the shaft, feeling confident that his
presence was not discovered.
He had no clearly defined plan, only
a desire to learn exactly what was be-
ing done. The office beyond the shaft
was lighted, although the faint CLEAN
was only dimly revealed along the
edge Of lowered curtains cOncealing
the interior. However, this evidence
that some one was within served to
attract Westcott's attention and he
crept around, under the shadow Of the
dump, and approached the farther
corner. He could perceive now two
men on the hoisting platform and hear
the growl of their voices, but without
being able to distinguish speech. Re
volver in hand, he made the round Of
the building to assure himself that no
guard had been posted there, then
chose the window farthest away from
the shaft and endeaVored to look in.