broken pot of honey and when, pounded up and
boiled in the hydrochloric acid, the solution bit the tin and turned
bright blue, there was many a hearty curse at the fickle hand of
fortune which had led Wiley Holman to that treasure.

It had lain there for years, trampled down beneath their feet. Now this
kid, this mining-school prospector, had come back and grabbed it all.
Not only the Paymaster with its tons of mined ore, but the ten claims to
the north, all showing good scheelite, which Death Valley Charley had
located--he had held them down as well. Two hundred dollars down and a
carefully worded option had tied them up for five thousand dollars, and
there were tungsten-mad men in that crowd of boomers who would have
given fifty thousand apiece. They came up to the mine where Wiley was
working and waved their money in his face, and then went off grumbling
as he refused all offers and went busily about his work. So they came,
and went, until at last the great wave brought Samuel J. Blount himself.

He came up the trail smiling, for there was nothing to be gained by
making belated complaints; but when he saw the pile of precious white
rock the smile died away in spite of him. It was the boast of Blount
that, buying or selling, he always held out his ten per cent; but that
pile of ore had cost him dear and he had sold it out for next to
nothing. And it was his other boast that he could read men's hearts when
they came to buy or sell, but here was a young man who had seen him
coming twice and gained the advantage both times. So the smile grew
longer in spite of his best efforts and when at last he found Wiley
Holman in the office of the company it was perilously near a sulk.

"Well, good morning, Wiley," he began with unction, and then he looked
grievously about. The expensive gas engine which he had bought and
installed was already unwatering the mine; spare timbers were going
down, the new blacksmith-shop was running and Wiley was sitting at his
desk. Everything was there, just the way he had left it, except that it
belonged to Wiley. Blount heaved a heavy sigh and then set his features
resolutely, for the battle was not over yet. To be sure the mine was
bonded for a measly fifty thousand dollars, and his stock was tied up
under an option; but many things can happen in six months' time and
Wiley was only a boy. Granted that he was a miner and understood ore,
there is such a thing as an "Act of God." Cables break witho