nly way I can earn a living is by washing and mending," he said.
"In fact," and he spread out his hands, "the thing's humiliating."

To a certain extent Weston sympathized with him. The man, it seemed,
had been a famous assayer, and now the one capability which was of any
use to him was that of neatly mending holes in worn-out garments. He
undertook the task cheerfully, however, and things went smoothly for a
week or two. Then a stranger, who appeared to be a man of authority,
arrived at the camp. He was a young man, who looked opinionative, and
when he first appeared was dressed in city clothes. Soon after his
arrival he strolled around the workings with the man whom Weston
hitherto had regarded as the manager. When he spoke sharply to one or
two of the men, the driller who worked with Weston snorted
expressively.

"Colvin puts the work through, but that's the top boss," he said. "You
can see it all over him. Learned all about mining back east in the
cities, and couldn't sink a hole for a stick of giant-powder to save
his life. Been down at Vancouver fixing up with the directors what
they're going to tell the stockholders. Still, I guess he's not going
to run this company's stock up very much."

"How's that?" Weston asked.

The man lowered his voice confidentially.

"Well," he said, "there's a good deal in mining that you can't learn
from books, and a little you can't learn at all. It has to be given
you when you're born. Colvin's a hustler, but that's 'bout all he is,
and I've a kind of notion they aren't going to bottom on the richest
of this vein. Anyway, it's not my call. They wouldn't listen to me."

Weston's gesture might have expressed anything. He naturally had been
favored with hints of this kind while he followed other somewhat
similar occupations, for it is not an uncommon thing for the men who
toil with the drill and shovel to feel more or less convinced that
those set over them are not going about the work in the right way. He
had also more than once seen this belief proved warranted. His
companion's suggestions, however, were borne out when he sat smoking
with Grenfell in the bush after supper.

"I've been in the adit this afternoon," observed the latter. "Colvin
sent me along to where they are putting in the heavy timbering." He
laughed softly. "Well, they're throwing away most of their money."

"You're sure?" inquired Weston.

"Am I sure!" expostulated his comrade. "I need only point out that