d. "Looks pretty good, don't it? I _thought_
it would run into copper!"

"Vot's dat? Vot's dat?" clamored the Professor from the fork of the
trail and Bunker gave Denver the wink.

"Aw, that ain't copper," he declared, "it's just this green hornblende.
We have it around here everywhere."

"All right", answered Denver, "you can have it your own way--but I call
it copper, myself."

"Vot--_copper_?" demanded the Professor making a clutch at the
specimen and examining it with his myopic eyes, and then he broke into a
roar. "Vot--dat copper?" he cried, "you think dat is copper? Oh, ho, ho!
Oh, vell! Dis is pretty rich. It is nutting but manganese!"

"That's all right," returned Denver, "you can think whatever you please;
but I've worked underground in too many copper mines----"

"Where'd you get this?" broke in Bunker, giving Denver a dig, and as
they went into the tunnel he whispered in his ear: "Keep it dark, or
he'll blab to Murray!"

"Well, let him blab," answered Denver, "it's nothing to me. But all the
same, pardner," he added _sotto voce_, "if I was in your place I
wouldn't bank too much on holding them claims with a lead-pencil."

"I'm holding 'em with a six-shooter," corrected Bunker, "and Murray or
nobody else don't dare to jump a claim. I'm known around these parts."

"Suit yourself," shrugged Denver as they came to the face, "I guess this
ore won't start no stampede. That seam in the hanging wall is where it
comes in--I'm looking for the veins to come together."

"Judas priest!" exclaimed Bunker jabbing his candlestick into the copper
streak, "say, this is showing up good. And your silver vein is widening
out, too. Nothing to it, boy; you've got a mine!"

"Not yet," said Denver, "but wait till she dips. This is nothing but a
blanket vein, so far; but if she dips and goes down then look out,
old-timer, she's liable to turn out a bonanza."

"Well, who'd a thought it," murmured Old Bunk turning somberly away,
"and I've been holding her for fifteen years!"

He led the way out, stooping down to avoid the roof; and outside the
stoop still remained.

"Where's the Professor?" he asked, suddenly looking about, "has he gone
to tell Murray, already? Well, by grab then, he knew it was."

"Oh, _was_ it copper?" quavered Drusilla catching hold of his hand
and looking up into his tired eyes, "and you sold it for five hundred
dollars! But that's all right," she smiled, drawing his head down for a
kiss. "I'll ju