til he had
exhausted the possibilities of the apartment and had peered into every
nook and corner, that he consented to sit down in the comfortable library
and express his commendation of the place and envy Hayden's luck.

Robert, on his part, had followed his guest about, replying mechanically
to his questions and endeavoring to throw off a depression which had
crept over him.

The night had been cold, and to one with any decency of feeling, Penfield
was a disagreeable companion; but if noxious he also had his uses, and
the more Hayden pondered the matter, the more he was strengthened in his
decision to secure Penfield's assistance. The humor for it grew upon him
as the reassuring comfort and cheer of his surroundings gradually
permeated his consciousness.

He was, as he felt, really risking very little. As he had said to Horace,
he was in the position of a man who has found a spring in the desert, but
may not stoop to drink. No, all the publicity Penfield could give to the
fact of his, Hayden's, discovery of the spring might be of incalculable
benefit to him in his search for the owners of a certain property, and
could, under no circumstances work him an injury, so long as he kept the
secret of the situation inviolably locked in his breast, and no matter
whose imagination might be fired by the tale, he felt a reasonable
security. Experienced prospectors, experts in their line, had
been seeking this symbolic well in the desert for twenty-five years and
he, not by virtue of his skill or knowledge, but by a mere fluke, a
glorious accident, had stumbled on it. It was hardly likely that another
should have a similar experience, within the space of the next few months
at any rate, and the next few months were all he asked.

The wood-fire on the hearth flickered redly over the walls, the lamps
were lighted in anticipation of his arrival; easy chairs were drawn near
the fire; books, papers and magazines were temptingly displayed on the
table.

"What were we talking about before we came up?" said Hayden, with the
effect of mental effort.

"Mines," Horace replied promptly. "You were about to tell me of a big
find you've made. Go on."

"Ah, yes. But"--Hayden laughed a little ruefully--"you've put the thing
entirely too definitely when you say 'a big find I've made.' The bother
of it is that I have and I haven't."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Horace, cocking his head sidewise and
looking at his host speculatively.