"Give me some tobacco, one of you.

Mine seems to have gone, and I feel I'd like to sit quiet a minute or two." The hand he thrust into his pocket came out through the bottom of it, for the lower part of the jacket was torn and burned; but one of the others produced a plug of tobacco, and when he had lighted his pipe Weston leaned back somewhat limply against the side of the adit.
"Well," he said, "I suppose it was rather a crazy trick, but if we'd been sensible we'd certainly have let the Grenfell Consolidated fall into the hands of those city men." Then he turned to the storekeeper with a deprecatory gesture.
"I'm sorry, Saunders, but you would try to hold me.

You ought to have known that you can't reason with a man in the mood that I was in then." Saunders grinned.

"I wouldn't worry about the thing.

If there isn't a club handy the next time you feel like doing anything of that kind I'm going to leave you severely alone." Then, through the roar and crackle of the fire, they heard a heavy crash, and one of the men nearest the mouth of the adit glanced at Weston significantly.
"It's kind of fortunate you got through when you did," he said.