ained. The tail sluicings were sluiced off down
the gulch, to add to the mighty dump that the Paymaster had left there
in its prime. But even at its best, when it was working in gold ore that
ran three or four thousand to the ton, even then the famous Paymaster
had not turned out treasure like this.

The banks were full of gold--they were shipping it to America in lots of
ten and twelve million at a time--but tungsten was rare, it was
necessary, almost priceless, and the demand for it increased by leaps
and bounds. How could iron-masters harden the tools that were to turn
out the mighty cannon that this gold had been sent over to buy, unless
they could get the tungsten? Molybdenum, vanadium, manganese, and all
the substitutes were commandeered to take its place; but month by month
the price of tungsten crept up until now all the West was tungsten-mad.
It had gone up from forty dollars to sixty, and now seventy, for a
twenty-pound unit of concentrates--running sixty per cent or better of
tungstic acid--and as Wiley resumed his shipments he received a frantic
offer of seventy-five dollars a unit. And then once more he smiled.

There had been a time when he had felt the cold hand of Blount closing
down on his precious mine--and the other banks had refused to take over
his notes. The property was not his, there was nothing tangible upon
which to make a loan; and then, Blount had passed the word around. Wiley
was indebted to him, and heavily indebted, and when he took the apple
there would be no core for the rest. But now in a week the whole
situation had changed and Wiley's smile brought forth answering smiles.
The general store in Vegas extended his credit, even his supply-house
had heard the good news; and Blount, who had grown arrogant, became
suddenly friendly and fawning, trying vainly to cover up his hand. He
was like a man who had clutched at a treasure and discovered himself a
little too soon. The treasure was still Wiley's but--well, Blount was
used to waiting, so he smiled and extended the notes.

At three dollars and more a pound it would not take many tons of
tungsten to put Wiley safely out of the hole, but when he ran over his
accounts he was startled by the bills that were piling up against him. A
thousand dollars was nothing to these mining machinery houses and his
payroll was over two hundred a day; and then there was powder and timber
and steel, and gasoline and oil, _and_ the freight across the
desert.