The Westerner snatched his pistol from his holster and
presented it down the shaft.
"Kindly return!" he commanded in a soft voice. The upward motion of the
dim figure ceased, and in a moment it had faded from view in the
descent. Fay waited a moment. "In five minutes," he announced in louder
tones, "I'm going to let loose this six-shooter down that shaft. I
should advise you gentlemen to retire to the tunnel." He peered down
again intently. A sudden clatter and thud behind him startled him. He
looked around. Bennington had fallen at full length across the stones,
and his rifle, falling, had clashed against the broken ore.
Fay, with a slight shrug of contempt at such womanish weakness, ran to
his assistance. He straightened the Easterner out and placed his folded
coat under his head. "He'll come around in a minute," he muttered. He
glanced toward the gulch and then back to the shaft. "Can't leave that
lay-out," he went on. He bent over the prostrate figure and began to
loosen the band of his shirt. Something about the boy's clothing
attracted his attention, so, drawing his knife, he deftly and gently
ripped away the coat and shirt.
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