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Struve's hand stole to his breast, came out slowly to the edge of

his coat, then leaped with a flash of something bright toward the

other's throat. Simultaneously the revolver rang out. A curse,

the sound of a falling body, and the frightened horses leaped

forward. The wheels slipped over the edge of the narrow mountain

road, and surrey, horses, and driver plunged a hundred feet down

to the sharp, broken rocks below.

Johnson, hearing the shot, ran out and stumbled over a body lying

in the road. By the bright moonlight he could see that it was

that of his employer. The surrey was nowhere in sight, but he

could easily make out where it had slipped over the precipice. He

ran back into the shaft-house and began telephoning wildly to

town.

CHAPTER XIII -- STEVE OFFERS CONGRATULATIONS