't see much
use in wasting any more money. As I said, my friends would, under the
circumstances, treat you fairly."

Thurston's face was impassive, and Melhuish, who thought that his
companion bore himself with a curious equanimity for a ruined man, did
not see that Thurston's hard fingers were clenched savagely on the
handle of a pick.

"I fancied you understood my opinions, and I haven't changed them,"
said Geoffrey. "I asked you to meet me here to-day to consider whether
the ore already in sight would be worth reduction, and you say, 'No.'
You can advise your friends, when you see them, that I'm not inclined
to assist them in a deliberate fraud upon the public."

Melhuish laughed. "You are exaggerating, and people seem perfectly
willing to pay for their experience, whether they acquire it over
copper, lead or tin. Besides, there's an average commercial
probability that somebody will find good ore after going down far
enough, and your part would be easy. You take a moderate price as
vendor, we advancing enough to settle the mortgage. Sign the papers my
friends will send you, and keep your mouth shut."

"And their expert wouldn't see that fault?" asked Geoffrey. Melhuish
smiled pityingly before he answered:

"The gentlemen I speak of keep an expert who certainly wouldn't see any
more than was necessary. The indications that deceived me are good
enough for anybody. Human judgment is always liable to error, and
there are ways of framing a report without committing the person who
makes it. May I repeat that it's a fair business risk, and whoever
takes this mine should strike the lead if sufficient capital is poured
in. It would be desirable for you to act judiciously. My financial
friends, I understand, have been in communication with the people who
hold your mortgages."

Geoffrey Thurston's temper, always fiery, had been sorely tried.
Dropping his pick, he gripped the tempter by the shoulder with fingers
that held him like a vice. He pressed Melhuish backward until they
stood within a foot of the verge of the black rift. Melhuish's face
was gray in the candle-light as he heard the dislodged pebbles splash
sullenly into the water, fathoms beneath. He had heard stories of the
vagaries of the Thurstons of Crosbie, and it was most unpleasant to
stand on the brink of eternity, in the grasp of one of them.

Suddenly Geoffrey dropped his hands. "You need better nerves in your
business, Melhuish," he sai