Clay arose hastily, and they went out of the old house and across the
fields. Past the boundaries of Millwood they walked, Travis silently
leading, and Clay following with Helen, who could not speak, so
momentous it all seemed. She saw only Travis's fine square
shoulders, and erect, sinewy form, going before them, into the night
of shadows, of trees, of rocks, of the great peak of the mountain,
silent and dark.

He did not speak. He walked in silent thought. They passed the
boundary line of Millwood, and then down a slight ravine he led them
to the ragged, flinty hill, on which the old preacher's cabin stood
on their right.

"Now," he said stopping--"if I am correct, Clay, this hill is the old
Bishop's," pointing to his right where the cabin stood, "and over
here is what is left of Westmoreland. This gulch divides them. This
range really runs into Westmoreland," he said with a sweep of his
hand toward it. "Get your bearings," he smiled to Clay, "for I want
you to tell whose fortune this is."

He lit his lantern and walking forward struck away some weeds and
vines which partially concealed the mouth of a small opening in the
hillside caused by a landslide. It was difficult going at first, but
as they went further the opening grew larger, and as the light
flashed on its walls, Clay stopped in admiration and shouted:

"Look--look--there it is!"

Before them running right and left--for the cave had split it in two,
lay the solid vein of coal, shining in the light, and throwing back
splinters of ebony, to Clay more beautiful than gold.

Travis watched him with an amused smile as he hastily took off his
satchel and struck a piece off the ledge. Helen stood wondering,
looking not at Clay, but at Travis, and her eyes shone brilliantly
and full of proud splendor.

Clay forgot that they were there. He measured the ledge. He chipped
off piece after piece and examined it closely. "I never dreamed it
would be here, in this shape," he said at last. "Look!--and fully
eight feet, solid. This hill is full of it. The old preacher will
find it hard to spend his wealth."

"But that is not all," said Travis; "see how the dip runs--see the
vein--this way." He pointed to the left.

Clay paled: "That means--it is remarkable--very remarkable. Why, this
vein should not have been here. It is too low to be in the
Carboniferous." He suddenly stopped: "But here it is--contrary to all
my data and--and--why really it takes the low range