The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 107: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE GOLD the crucible to become ready for pour- ing into the mold of the floor, and looked up with a curt little nod. The manager drew a chair in front of the furnace and seated himself. “ As I came past the tanks I saw that Tom was helping Jeffries,” said he. “Yes,” she answered, keeping her face turned from him. “ Mr. Jeffries is doing some repair work on Tank No. 10 and he came and asked if I could spare Tom for a few hours. I could, and so I told Tom to go. I hardly thought it necessary to leave my work and ask you about it.” “That is all right, Miss Travis. I did not ask you the question in a fault- finding spirit. Have you noticed that there was seme. wrong with Tank Ten lately? ” és No. 33 “ You did not see the tank after it was unloaded this morning? ” “‘T have not paid any attention to the tanks since you came. If there was anything wrong with the tank, Mr. Jeff- res should have known.” She got up, removed the top of the furnace, and looked at the molten bullion; then, after throwing more charcoal into the fire, seated herself again. As the red flames flickered over her face, Whipple saw how haggard it was, and a pang of pity darted through his heart. She still had herself well in hand, but he could see how hard a fight “ne was making. “When were the tanks last over- hauled? ” he asked, after a moment. Two weeks before you took charge,” she replied. ‘The ordinary wear and tear would not make it necessary for Tank Ten to be repaired again so soon, would it? ” “NO.” She offered no explanation as to the possible cause of the trouble, and for some time they sat in silence. “JT sent word to the sheriff by the driver of the Cache d’Oro stage this afternoon,” he said finally. She made no comment, did not even look toward him. “As it now stands,” he added, “Christopher will be here Monday afternoon.” GLEANERS. 103 Still she made no response. Rising, she reached to the wall and took down a pair of tongs. “Allow me,” said he, getting up quickly and taking the tongs out of her hand; “the crucible is too heavy for you.” ‘Silently she removed the cover from the furnace. With strong, steady hands Whipple gripped the white hot crucible with the tongs, lifted it from the coals, and poured the molten bullion into the mold, “The last bar,” said Amy. “ You need not wait,” he said gently ; “ T will attend to the rest.” “YT will go when I have finished my work,” she answered, and again seated herself. Ife hung up the tongs and resumed his chair. When the mold had cooled sufficiently, Amy turned it over and then threw it back, leaving the bar on the strip of zine that covered the floor. Taking down the tongs again, she lifted the bar and plunged it into a bucket of water. Then she put the mold in its accustomed place and walked to the broken safe. Dragging out the canvas bullion bag, she opened it and turned to the manager. “There are four bars here, Mr. Whipple,” said she; “ please come and see.” “Tl take your word for it,” he re- turned. “T would rather have you see for yourself.” Ife went over to the bag and looked into it. ¢ | Four bars,” he said. ‘And here is the fifth.” She brought it as she spoke and dropped it mto the bag. Closing the bag, she turned the key in the loek, withdrew it, and handed it to Whipple. “My responsibility ends here,” she added. As she took down her hat from a nail in the wall, Pepe rang the cracked bell at Mrs. Gambel’s, announcing that supper was ready. The warning came clearly to the two in the office, and Amy, without a word, stepped toward the door. The managcr stood heside the bullion hag, watehing her intently. COLMUC AOOLK COL