The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1936-05-21
CHAPTER XIV

Under the driving of the wedges the
tree split and its halves rolled apart
at Kerry YOung's feet. A great mass
of brood and comb and oozing honey
gIistened in the sunlight. Trickles of
the golden fluid ran across the freshly
broken wood. In great sheets, the
comb ran up the cavity, great folds.
e. And near the bottom of the hive,
about the length of a mans fore arm
from the entrance, imbedded in comb,
snug and tight and safe, was the thing
which belonged in no bees stOrehouse!
Young moaned as he dropped the
sledge and tore into the comb with his
gloved hands. wrestling from that
sticky mass the cylindrically shaped
object his quick eyes had detected.
Honey dripped from it; bees swarmed
about his hands as he turned it over
and over.
What a placer" he muttered. mo
mouse could gnaw, no providing bear
find it. Nothing, Tod West, except the
bees knew! . And who'd hunt for
this tree? Who, if you hadn't left
honey sticking to that old crowbar?"
He shook off a bee which stung his
wrist. He moved away from a buzzing
cloud, making his way to the leaf dap
pied spring and, STOPPING, plunged the
smeared roll of bills into the crystal
waters.
The honey washed away quickly, dis
solving even in the cold water. He
saw a figure on the currency; it was a
hundred; many more were there. . .
He washed them briskly and Tip came
close.
"GOt it, Tipr' he cried. "Got dear
Mans CASH. We've q. :" He broke
off. A part of the smear would not
wash away. He examined it care
fully and the dog, swapping at a bee,
did not catch that sound from behind,
the sound of a man rising in a screen
of young growth, bringing that rifle
slowly down, pressing a scratched and
sweat stained cheek TO the stock.
Pitch" Kerry muttered. pitch,
sure as hill That's why the blaze on
the pine tree! He smeared it with
pitch. Tip, so the bees wouldn't try to
carry it away and get rid of it piece
by piecei He knew bees"
Young whirled, then, because the
dog had turned, stiff and alert and
opened his throat in a ragged growL
In the soft earth, Kerry's one foot
slipped and he had started to fall even
as the rifle spoke, started to throw
himself toward his own rifle, leaning
against a boulder. :. But he did not
reach it. That other weapon barked
and he went down with the agonies of
hell itself tearing at his left shoulder.
So it was Tip who rushed Tod West,
who charged forward as the man
emerged from the brush, rifle at ready.
-. Tip who, with teeth showing, and
eyes wicked with an orange flare, stood
alone between Nan Downer's money
and the man who had cached it so cum
ningly!
Again the rife crashed and the dog,
yelping, swapping at his right hind leg,
went end over end through the under
brush, threshing, rolling, screaming
with pain as Tod West charged past
him. -.
Young had fallen face down into the
muck about the spring. His right hand
lay Imply in the water and away from
it, rocked by the little ripples which
= still disturbed the surface, fioated the
roll of bills, turning slowly around and
around.
West saw the money. With an oath
he snatched it up and pumped a fresh
cartridge into the rifle chamber. He
poised there above the figure of his
Nemesis, dropping the muZzle quickly
to the back of the barred head.
And then caution asserted itself.
How far behind pursuit might be, Tod
did not know. Already, he had fired
twice, and sounds would carry well
today. He stopped, listening. The
pound of his heart, the rasp of his
own breath were loud. He lifted
Young's arm and let it go. The inert
hand smacked the water duly.