The Up Grade
breathing hard, striving to guess what lay behind that wall of smoke. Another pause, then a terrific report.

“Nine, only one more!” shouted the foreman. They waited ten seconds,—no other shot. Then ten seconds more. They rose to their feet and started forward. “Two must have gone off at once,” yelled McKay. Another[36] roar, and they had barely time to reach cover before the shower of rocks again fell.

[36]

“Ten! Come on!” roared McKay. The rocks had hardly fallen, before he, followed by a dozen others, was rushing through the smoke to what he knew must be beyond. The grade was blocked with great masses of rock, and by the time they had climbed over these barriers, the smoke had cleared.

They found Loring lying on his face, his right hand still grasping the bridle of the dead horse. The girl was kneeling beside him. As McKay reached her side, he recognized the daughter of the manager of the mine. He raised her to her feet, while as if dazed by the miracle he repeated: “You ain’t hurt, Miss Cameron? You ain’t hurt?” She shook herself free from him, then knelt again by Stephen, trying to stanch with her handkerchief the blood that was flowing from a great cut in his temple. She looked up at McKay with an anxious appeal in her eyes. “Is he dead?” she asked.

“The girl was kneeling beside him.” Page 36

McKay bent over, and opening the rough shirt felt Loring’s heart. “No, he’s alive still, but he’s pretty close to gone,” he answered. He untwisted the tight clenched fingers from the bridle, and half[37] raised the unconscious body. It lay limp in his arms. He turned to one of the foremen who were gathered around.

[37]

“Smith, get a horse and ride like hell for the company doctor!” The man was off for the corral in an instant.

“Now, Miss, you just leave him to us!” went on McKay. “See now, your skirt is getting all blood.”

For reply, she raised Loring’s head gently and placed it in her lap. “Now, send some one for blankets and water,” she directed.

“Agua, hey, ag-ua!” shouted McKay, and in a minute a little pale-faced water boy came stumbling up with a bucket of muddy water. McKay looked on in wonder while the girl deftly washed the dirt from the wounds.

“She has her nerve,” he thought. “There 
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