The Father hadn't much more to tell them, for better or worse.  The Ghost Rock may or may not have been what killed his friend, but either way the Father could not lead them to the mine.  The best he could offer would be to point them towards some of the townspeople who might know about it.  Charles had always operated the mine alone, but in all likelihood someone had either shadowed him to the site or at least made a note of what path he was taking or what direction he headed every day.

It was late now anyway.  With that cougar still out there folks wouldn't be too keen to be creeping about looking for that mine.  The Father invited everyone there to come join him at the Bed and Breakfast for dinner and a bed.  He bid them farewell and headed out that way to oversee the preparation and put any finishing touches on the short prayer he began every dinner with.


[center]- - - The Next Morning - - -[/center]

Another day begins in Selina at a very early hour.  Even so some have been up for awhile.  Cooks from the monastery have to be up before anyone else to provide a breakfast for the travelers heading in and out of Selina.  The inviting aroma of a lovingly prepared, if simple, breakfast permeate the Bed and Breakfast.  Whether still in bed, sitting at a table, or already outside greeting the morning it would be hard not to smell that sizzling bacon.

In the dining room the shop owners lazily finish their breakfasts, the sheriff sits in the corner keeping an eye on the door while neatly cutting up and eating a large plate of scrambled eggs and flank steak.  Outside a number of semi-employed wanderers are grouping up, checking with each other to see what jobs might be available.  Selina isn't Dodge, there's a limited amount of work, but there's still just about always work to be done.  Among them is the man from the bar earlier, his nose already healing well though still slightly swollen.