"We'll send some of that down to Sacramento right away," he observed,

"and have it assayed. And we won't let out anything about it, Bud--good

or bad. I like this flat. I don't want it mucked over with a lot of

gold-crazy lunatics."

Bud laughed and reached for the bacon. "We ain't been followed up with

stampedes so far," he pointed out. "Burro Lode never caused a ripple in

the Bend, you recollect. And I'll tell a sinful world it looked awful

good, too."

"Yeah. Well, Arizona's hard to excite. They've had so dang much

strenuosity all their lives, and then the climate's against violent

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effort, either mental or physical. I was calm, perfectly calm when I

discovered that big ledge. It is just as well--seeing how it petered

out."

"What'll you bet this pans out the same?"

"I never bet. No one but a fool will gamble." Cash pressed his lips

together in a way that drove the color from there.

"Oh, yuh don't! Say, you're the king bee of all gamblers. Been

prospecting for fifteen years, according to you--and then you've got the

nerve to say you don't gamble!"

Cash ignored the charge. He picked up a piece of rock and held it to the

fading light. "It looks good," he said again. "Better than that placer

ground down by the creek. That's all right, too. We can wash enough gold

there to keep us going while we develop this. That is, if this proves as

good as it looks."

Bud looked across at him enigmatically. "Well, here's hoping she's worth

a million. You go ahead with your tests, Cash. I'll wash the dishes."

"Of course," Cash began to conserve his enthusiasm, "there's nothing so

sure as an assay. And it was too dark in the hole to see how much was

uncovered. This may be just a freak deposit. There may not be any real

vein of it. You can't tell until it's developed further. But it looks

good. Awful good."

His makeshift tests confirmed his opinion. Bud started out next day with

three different samples for the assayer, and an air castle or two to

keep him company. He would like to find himself half owner of a mine

worth about a million, he mused. Maybe Marie would wish then that she

had thought twice about quitting him just on her mother's say-so. He'd

like to go buzzing into San Jose behind the wheel of a car like the one

Foster had fooled him into stealing. And meet Marie, and her mother

too, and let them get an eyeful. He guessed the old lady would have to

swallow what she had said about him being lazy--just because he couldn't

run an auto-stage in the winter to Big Basin! What was the matter with

the old woman, anyway? Didn't he keep Maria in comfort. Well, he'd like

to see her face when he drove along the street in a big new Sussex.

She'd wish she had let him and Marie alone. They would have made out all

right if they had been let alone. He ought to have taken Marie to some

other town, where her mother couldn't nag at her every day about him.

Marie wasn't such a bad kid, if she were left alone. They might have

been happy-He tried then to shake himself free of thoughts of her. That was the

trouble with him, he brooded morosely. He couldn't let his thoughts ride

free, any more. They kept heading straight for Marie. He could not see

why she should cling so to his memory; he had not wronged her--unless

it was by letting her go without making a bigger fight for their home.

Still, she had gone of her own free will. He was the one that had been

wronged--why, hadn't they lied about him in court and to the gossipy

neighbors? Hadn't they broke him? No. If the mine panned out big as Cash

seemed to think was likely, the best thing he could do was steer clear

of San Jose. And whether it panned out or not, the best thing he could

do was forget that such girl as Marie had ever existed..




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