eable that he
dropped the "Mr.," "and five long paces due north from my kitchen
window, you dig! You'll find a chunk of ore, there. Assay it, and then
come back here!"

"But--"

The old prospector waved the interruption aside, impatiently.

"Do it, and then talk!"

Owens shrugged his shoulders and left, but little less excited than
Jim.

That evening, during the middle of the night shift, when no one was
likely to see him, the mine-owner went to the spot designated and
began to dig. A foot or two beneath the surface, he found the chunk of
ore. He put it in his pocket and hurried to his own house.

It was nearly dawn before he completed the assay. Then he put the ore
and his memorandum of results in the safe and went to bed for a short
sleep.

That morning, after breakfast, he returned to the hospital. He found
Jim in an excited state.

"No, Mr. Owens, there's nothing wrong with him," the doctor explained,
"only he hasn't slept all night. He's been asking for you, every few
minutes."

When the mine-owner entered the ward, Jim struggled up to a sitting
position.

"What about it?" he queried.

Owens closed the door carefully, came up to the sick man's bedside,
and answered quietly,

"About 110 grains of gold to the ton and 800 ounces of silver. There's
some native copper, too."

"It's a real find then?"

"It isn't what you'd call rich," the Australian answered cautiously.

"How about this, then?"

Jim took his old coat, which he had got the hospital attendant to
bring him the night before, ripped open a seam, showing a narrow tube
of buckskin running around the hem, and, opening its mouth, poured out
a few grains of yellow metal into the palm of his hand.

"Free gold!" he said, triumphantly.

One glance of a trained eye sufficed.

"That's the stuff, sure enough. But you didn't find much of it, eh?"

"Where do you get that idea?"

"The grains are big enough to pan easily. If there was much of it, you
wouldn't have left the place without cleaning up a good stake."

"There is plenty of it. But I had to get out."

"Why, then?"

"To save my skin. An' I couldn't get back there."

"Back where?"

"Where I found it."

"That doesn't tell me much."

"It ain't intended to."

"Then why," said Owens, showing irritation, "did you show me the ore
at all?"

Jim looked at him under lowered eyelids.

"Have you ever been a prospector, honest?"

The owner of the coal mine put his hand in his breas