here,
and with it the refutation of his enemies' sneers, the corroboration of
his friends' belief, the practical demonstration of his own theories,
the reward of his patient labors. It was there, sure enough. But,
somehow, he not only failed to recall the first joy of discovery, but
was conscious of a vague sense of responsibility and unrest. It was,
no doubt, an enormous fortune to a man in his circumstances: perhaps it
meant a couple of hundred thousand dollars, or more, judging from the
value of the old Martin lead, which was not as rich as this, but it
required to be worked constantly and judiciously. It was with a
decided sense of uneasiness that he again sought the open sunlight of
the hillside. His neighbor was still visible on the adjacent claim;
but he had apparently stopped working, and was contemplatively smoking
a pipe under a large pine-tree. For an instant he envied him his
apparent contentment. He had a sudden fierce and inexplicable desire
to go over to him and exasperate his easy poverty by a revelation of
his own new-found treasure. But even that sensation quickly passed,
and left him staring blankly at the landscape again.

As soon as he had made his discovery known, and settled its value, he
would send for his wife and her children in the States. He would build
a fine house on the opposite hillside, if she would consent to it,
unless she preferred, for the children's sake, to live in San
Francisco. A sense of a loss of independence--of a change of
circumstances that left him no longer his own master--began to perplex
him, in the midst of his brightest projects. Certain other relations
with other members of his family, which had lapsed by absence and his
insignificance, must now be taken up anew. He must do something for
his sister Jane, for his brother William, for his wife's poor
connections. It would be unfair to him to say that he contemplated
those things with any other instinct than that of generosity; yet he
was conscious of being already perplexed and puzzled.

Meantime, however, the neighbor had apparently finished his pipe, and,
knocking the ashes out of it, rose suddenly, and ended any further
uncertainty of their meeting by walking over directly towards him. The
treasure-finder advanced a few steps on his side, and then stopped
irresolutely.

"Hollo, Slinn!" said the neighbor, confidently.

"Hollo, Masters," responded Slinn, faintly. From the sound of the two
voices a st