'Yes, yes, down the old mine; that's it! Let me go. It's hid in the old
mine--my gold, my beautiful gold!'

'You cannot take him in this state,' said Mm. Hardy; 'it would be
brutal.'

The detective examined him closely, and, being satisfied that the man was
really ill and unlikely to escape, went to the kitchen door and blew a
shrill blast of his whistle in the direction of the quarries. When he
returned Chistina was on her knees by the bunk, as if praying, and Mrs.
Hardy was bathing the patient's temples. After a few minutes Sergeant
Monk rode up and joined them in the room.

'Here is our man,' said Downy quietly. Send Donovan for the covered-in
waggon at the hotel. We will have to take him on a mattress.'

'Shot?' cried Monk.

'No; off his head. Send a couple of your men in here. I think I'll get my
hands on that gold presently.'

The sergeant withdrew, and Downy touched Chris on the shoulder.

'It's a bad business, miss,' he said. 'You made a plucky fight, but this
was inevitable. Will you tell me where he was hidden?'

Chris arose and stood with her back to the wall and answered him in a
firm voice. She understood the futility of further evasion.