“Reckon that’s true.”

  “Then I’m promotin’ you to master blaster. You’re head powderman down there, and your first chore is figurin’ how to get the bodies out, then continuin’ with the blasting down that drift.”

  Slocum kept fingering the concha in his pocket, then dropped his hand to his side.

  “What’s it pay?”

  “Twice what you’re gettin’ now,” Miles said.

  “I’m your man,” Slocum said. He thrust out his hand for Miles to shake. The foreman hesitated, then glared at Slocum and finally shook.

  “Deal,” Miles said. “See that you’re a sight more careful with the powder than your predecessor.”

  “I’m a real careful man,” Slocum said. He smiled and none of the three men returned it.

  4

  “Hey, Slocum, the boss wants you.”

  Slocum glanced up at Herk from the sheets showing the inventory of blasting powder. The burly man stood with his arms crossed over his barrel chest and looking as if the summons forced him to exert himself too much. He hadn’t done a damned thing around the mine otherwise.

  “I need to finish this list. Tell Miles I’ll be along shortly.”

  “Ain’t Miles what wants you. It’s Mr. Haining. You’d better get your ass up the hill right now. He don’t like to be kept waitin’.”

  Slocum glanced at the tallies, then tucked the sheet into his shirt pocket. He could finish it later. Talking with the mine owner wasn’t something he wanted to do, but he knew it had to be done eventually.

  He followed the direction Herk pointed, then began trooping up the steep hill toward a shack emblazoned with a neatly painted sign telling one and all that this was the Low Down Mine HQ. Slocum hesitated at the door, then knocked. He had no idea how much of a stickler Morgan Haining was, but getting off on the wrong foot with him wouldn’t accomplish much.

  “Come on in. The door’s unlatched,” came a pleasant voice from inside. Slocum pushed his way in and saw a well-dressed man sitting behind a desk, papers spread in a wide fan in front of him. Two inkwells were strategically placed on the right side of the desk, with a bevy of quill pens around them.

  “You must be the new master powderman.”

  “Slocum, sir.”

  “Don’t just stand there, come on in and have a seat. The office isn’t much, but I don’t see any reason to put a lot of money into something like this, do you?”

  “Money’s better spent in the mine,” Slocum said.

  “Exactly, exactly, Mr. Slocum. You’re my kind of man. But I knew you were, since you came so highly recommended. Drink?” Haining opened the bottom desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of Billy Taylor’s finest whiskey, the seal still intact on the cork. Slocum doubted this was one of the fake bottles he saw at the town saloons and was, instead, the real thing.

  “It’s been a while since I had a decent shot of whiskey. I’d like that,” Slocum said.

  “Then here you go,” Haining said, pouring into a single shot glass. Slocum wondered whether the Low Down’s owner was going to drink straight from the bottle. Instead, he stuck the cork back in. Seeing Slocum’s attention, he explained, “I can’t drink like I used to. Ulcer. As much as I fancy a drink now and then, it tears up my gut. But don’t let that stop you. You look as if you need to cut the dust with a good drink.”

  Slocum knocked back the whiskey and let it slide down his gullet until it pooled warm and peaceful in his belly.

  “Mighty fine, sir. Thank you. Wish you could partake, too.”

  “Seeing your enjoyment of it is good enough for me. Now, Mr. Slocum, tell me what happened to Bowden and Thompson.”

  “I reckon you’ve already heard,” Slocum said slowly. He touched the silver concha in his pocket and decided not to mention it to the mine owner.

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Miles has told me, but I wanted to hear the details from someone who was down there.”

  “Why? Isn’t it enough to know that two men died?”

  “No, sir, it is not!” flared Haining. “How do we prevent such catastrophes in the future? You’re an expert when it comes to handling explosives. What can I do to make it safer for you and the rest of the blasting crew?”

  Slocum wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t think Thompson’s death had been an accident. The more he thought back, the more certain he was that Miles and his two henchmen had been responsible. The noises he had heard when he had gone back to fetch his canteen had been Thompson and Bowden scuffling with the foreman and his cronies. Somehow in the fight, Thompson had grabbed at an attacker’s hat and come away with Herk’s silver hatband ornament. They had detonated the blast to cover the murders.

  That was what he had decided had happened, but he couldn’t prove a bit of it. Why had Miles fought with Thompson? If there had been any kind of disagreement, Miles could have just fired Thompson and Bowden. All manner of ideas floated through Slocum’s mind. Miles seemed so concerned about someone stealing from the mine that maybe he was looking for a scapegoat, either to protect his job or to protect himself from being arrested. He might be the one stealing and Thompson might have been on the verge of accusing him.

  Slocum slumped in the chair. He didn’t know enough, even after two weeks at the Low Down, to know what was going on.

  “Well, sir, how can safety in the mine be improved?”

  Slocum started to speak, but Haining held up his hand.

  “Come on in, Lucas,” the mine owner called.

  Slocum shut his mouth and said nothing more. The foreman stood in the doorway, hand resting on a six-shooter he had strapped to his hip.

  “Will you escort Darleen over to York? She wants to see some friends. Be careful. There are road agents galore working that road.”

  “You don’t have to worry on that account, Mr. Haining,” Miles said. He stared at Slocum with an unfathomable expression. Slocum felt as if he didn’t exist—or maybe he did and was as annoying as a bug crawling along the floor.

  “See that you’re back before sundown.”

  Miles nodded and disappeared.

  “Now, Mr. Slocum, where were we? Ah, yes, mine safety.”

  “It’d be safer underground if the miners had any confidence in your foreman.”

  “What? Lucas Miles is a fine man, knowledgeable, and has run the Low Down like a watch. Why, there’s nothing that escapes his notice.”

  “The men don’t like him. Does that matter to you?”

  “Oh, bosh,” Haining said, his hand fluttering as if he shooed away a fly. “You don’t know what you’re saying. The men admire and respect Lucas. He came highly recommended and has worked out well.”

  “He doesn’t—”

  “I won’t hear a word against him, Mr. Slocum. I trust him implicitly. Why, you just heard. I trust Lucas enough to send him along as escort for my wife. I would go with her, but I have so deuced much work to do here. You can’t believe how difficult it is paying the bills and keeping a steady flow of matériel into the mine. You’re not wanting for anything down below, are you? Of course not. I make sure of that.”

  “What’s the paydirt like?” Slocum asked suddenly. “I haven’t seen any of the ore go out that looked as if it had a fleck of gold in it.”

  “Why, we’re drawing better than four ounces a ton. The Low Down is one of the richest mines in the district. It would be richer if it weren’t for the outlaws who prey on shipments back to Denver.”

  An idea occurred to Slocum.

  “You lose a lot in shipment?”

  “Why, no, not at all. We haven’t lost a single ounce in the past six months, because I hire the best guards in the business.”

  Slocum remembered seeing the riflemen and the guards and driver on the shipment leaving for Denver the first night he had been in town. While it might not have been a shipment from the Low Down, it was well protected.

  “You’re sure of your assay?”

  “Quite, sir. What are you implying?”

  “Nothing,” Slocum said. “I’ve got an inventory of explosives I took.” He fished it out of his pocket. “We could use another ten kegs of blasting powder if you want to push on through the plug on the lowest level. It’s harder rock than it first appeared, but . . .”

  “But the quartz content is high. I know. I have personally examined some of the samples. I have been trained as a geologist. That’s how I happened upon the Low Down in the first place, when no one else thought it was worth digging.”

  “You’ve got a good mine if you’re drawing four ounces to the ton of dross,” Slocum said. The yield was moderately good, and if they found a richer vein, such as the one Thompson had hoped for, the assay would run far higher. “About those ten kegs.”

  “Done, Mr. Slocum. And no more of that nonsense about the men not respecting Lucas. He can be a hard taskmaster, but that’s why I hired him. I have noticed a tendency of some miners to slack off. I am glad you are not one of that kind. Keep your shoulder to the wheel and you will be both respected and in a position of importance in the mine, not that being head powderman is not an important post.”

  “Yes, sir, I understand,” Slocum said, standing. Haining’s thoughts were obviously drifting back to the work spread out on his desk. “Thanks for the whiskey.”

  “Think nothing of it. And if there are real problems, take them up with Lucas.”

  Slocum left without another word. Lucas Miles was the last person in the world he would take any concern to. Or to Herk or Singer.

  He had started back down the path toward the mine when he noticed a woman near a storage shed watching him intently. Slocum appreciated the way she looked at him, so he tipped his hat in her direction. She was slim, perhaps twenty, dark hair and bright blue eyes with about the prettiest smile he had seen since coming to Colorado. She wore a gingham dress and filled it well.

  Slocum intended to pass by, but the woman called out to him.

  “Yoohoo, mister, please. Can you come here a minute?” She gestured for him to join her.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?”

  “Please, call me Evangeline. Evie, to my friends.”

  “Miss Evangeline,” Slocum said. “Pleased to meet you.” He introduced himself.

  “Then I’ll call you John.”

  Slocum wondered at her insistence on first names.

  “John, I couldn’t help overhearing what you said to . . . Mr. Haining.”

  “You eavesdropped?” Slocum considered her hesitation in naming the mine owner. “What was so important that you’d spy on us?”

  “It’s quite important,” she said, her face going blank. He saw how tears began to well up and wondered what was going on. The young woman tried to hide all emotion and only partly succeeded. “You said that there was unrest among the miners. Can you say more about that?”

  “No more than you already heard,” Slocum said. He didn’t like this line of questioning, even if it was pleasant to be in the company of such a lovely filly. Her midnight-dark hair was clean, and she smelled better than anyone he had come across in a month of Sundays. Her face was well scrubbed, but tiny flushed spots showed on her cheeks. Whatever was going through her head caused strong emotions.

  “It’s most important to me, John. If you could tell me what’s happening in the mines, I would be most appreciative.” She blushed even more and averted her eyes. The obvious reward she promised further perplexed Slocum. He wasn’t averse to spending more time with her, but what she offered in return for gossip seemed out of proportion to what he would get.

  “Why? I could tell you anything,” he said.

  “But you wouldn’t. I heard what you said, and you were sincere. The other men matter to you. The mine matters.”

  “I don’t give two hoots about the mine, Miss Evangeline,” he said. “I do care about men dying, though. Especially since it might be me buried alive down there. It’s dangerous work, and there’s no cause to make it more so.”

  “I wasn’t offering my—” Evangeline blushed furiously now. “I didn’t mean you could . . . we would . . . oh!” She turned away, embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry if I got the wrong idea, but that’s what it sounded like to me. What is your interest in the mine? Why not ask Mr. Haining? You seem to know your way around here, and he’s an honest man.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes,” Slocum said, “but I also think he’s got too many things other than seeing to the daily routine to worry about.”

  “And you don’t think Lucas Miles is capable of dealing with that?”

  “You must not, either, or you’d ask Miles,” Slocum said.

  “Please, John. This is important. Whatever you hear about unrest or thieving or . . . anything, please, please let me know.”

  “I haven’t worked at the Low Down very long,” Slocum said. “Why do you think you can trust me?”

  She turned and looked deep into his green eyes. A smile danced on her lips again, then brightened to a full grin.

  “I know.” She reached out and brushed her fingertips along his stubbled cheek. Then Evangeline turned and dashed off. Slocum watched as she went down the hill, took a path leading toward Cripple Creek, and eventually disappeared. He heaved a deep sigh. That was one lovely woman, but he had no idea why she was mixed up in this, or what she really wanted from him.

  Trudging on back to the Low Down shaft, Slocum bellowed for Billy. The young man got off a powder keg and sauntered over.

  “Get two kegs of Giant,” Slocum said. “I want to blast that drift open by the end of the shift.”

  “She really put a bug into your ear, is that it?”

  “What did you say?”

  “Miss Evangeline. I saw her talkin’ with you. She’s lookin’ mighty fine, considerin’.”

  “What’s it to you that she was talking to me?”

  “Nothin’, Slocum, nothin’ at all.”

  They walked silently to the elevator, each with a keg of blasting powder on his shoulder. Slocum dropped his to the elevator platform and signaled the operator to lower them to the bottom of the mine. Wood creaking and chains rattling, the elevator began its slow descent.

  Only when they were below and the powder had been moved did Slocum turn to Billy.

  “You know more of what’s going on than I do,” Slocum said. “What’s Evangeline’s interest in the mine?”

  “You don’t know, do you, Slocum? I’ll be damned. You don’t know!”

  Slocum said nothing. He knew Billy would get around to telling him as soon as his enjoyment of the situation died a mite. And he did.

  “You don’t know what her last name is, do you? It’s Haining.”

  “Evangeline Haining?” Slocum’s mind raced. Morgan Haining had asked the foreman to escort his wife, Darleen, to the next town south. “She’s the owner’s daughter?”

  “None other than.”

  “Certainly explains why she was in a position to spy on Haining,” Slocum said. “But she could ask him. Why would she ask me to find out what problems there are in the mine?”

  “You really don’t know, do you?” This time Billy was more somber. He looked around, then stepped closer and said in a hoarse whisper, “She figures you’re a decent sort, having risked your life like you did to save Thompson.”

  “I tried to save Bowden, too,” Slocum pointed out.

  “Yeah, but she wasn’t sweet on Bowden.”

  “She and Thompson—?”

  “Yep. Rumor had it they were goin’ to get hitched, but Thompson never said nothin’ ’bout that. A powder monkey marryin’ the boss’s daughter? Don’t know how that woulda set with Haining.”

  “He didn’t know?”

  “Don’t get me wrong. Mr. Haining’s a fine man, but he’s got too rosy a view of the world. He ain’t never seen the dust and danger down here often enough to get anything else.”

  Billy hefted the powder keg and started for the end of the drift. Slocum mulled over what Billy had said, then picked up the other powder keg and followed. They had blasting to do.

  5

  “Think that’ll do it, Slocum?” Billy stepped back and aimed his miner’s lamp at the five holes they had drilled into the rock and then tamped full of blasting powder.

  “Looks like you got too much for the blast.”

  “Afraid Miles will complain about the wasted money for the powder?”

  Slocum began measuring off the waxy black miner’s fuse, getting five sections about the length of his arm. He expertly twisted them into a knot, then laced his roll of fuse in. “Get to sticking the ends of the fuses in.”

  Billy inserted each of the five ends, secured them with mud, then stepped back and saw Slocum already unrolling the main fuse.

  “You seem to know what you’re doin’,” the miner said, but his tone carried enough doubt that Slocum had to laugh.

  “I’ve seen it done this way before. Saves having a long length of fuse on each hole. Main fuse burns down, sets off the shorter ones, makes it more likely all of them will detonate at the same time.”

  “Suppose so,” Billy said. “How far back we goin’?”

  “Out of the level,” Slocum said. “Make sure everyone’s cleared out before I light the fuse.”

  Slocum stopped in the larger chamber where half a dozen drifts angled off into the mountainside, cut the fuse, and tossed the remaining roll onto the elevator.

  “That’s not goin’ to set well with Miles. He thinks it’s a waste of time gettin’ all the men out of the level just to blast.”

  “He’s not here and I am. Didn’t I get myself promoted to master powderman?”

  “Reckon so. How many’re workin’ this level?”

  “Miles told me he had three men besides us working this level, down yonder.” Slocum pointed to the drift where he and Billy had been working before the accident with Thompson and Bowden. Or what had been called an accident. Slocum still carried Herk’s concha as a reminder.

  “Want me to fetch them or let them work?”

  “Get them out of here. No reason to risk more men if I did get the amount of powder wrong.”