me with happiness to move, to think, to
comprehend, to breathe!

CHAPTER XV

"MR. SLOAN SPEAKS"

"Wow! Somethin' seems to have kind of livened up the gloom of this
dump, seems to me," exclaimed Bill on the following morning, when
returning from his regular trip underground, he stamped into the
office, threw himself into a chair, and hauled off one of his rubber
boots preparatory to donning those of leather.

Dick had been bent over the high desk, with plans unrolled before him,
and a sheet of paper on which he made calculations, whistling as he
did so.

"First time I've heard you whistle since we left the Coeur d'Alenes,"
Bill went on, grinning slyly, as if secretly pleased. "What're you up
to?"

"Finding out if by sinking we couldn't cut that green lead about two
hundred feet farther down."

"Bully boy! I'm with you!" encouraged the older miner, throwing the
cumbersome boots into the corner, and coming over behind Dick, where
he could inspect the plans across the angle of the other's broad
shoulder. "How does she dope out?"

"We cut the green lead on the six-hundred-foot, at a hundred and ten
feet from the shaft, didn't we? Well, the men before us cut on the
five-hundred at a hundred and seventy from the shaft, and at
two-twenty from the shaft on the four-hundred-foot level, where they
stoped out a lot of it before concluding it wouldn't pay to work. It
was a strong but almost barren ledge when they first came into it on
the two-hundred-foot level. The Bonanza chute made gold because they
happened to hit it at a crossing on the four-hundred-foot level. At
the six-hundred, as we know, it was almost like a chimney of ore that
is playing out as we drift west. If the mill had not been put out of
business, we were going to stope it out, though, and prove whether it
was the permanent ledge, weren't we?"

"Right you are, pardner."

"Well, then, at the same angle, we would have to drift less than
seventy feet on the seven-hundred-foot level to cut it again, and at
the eight-hundred-foot we'd just about have it at the foot of the
shaft. Well, I'm sinking, regardless of expense."

"It might be right, boy, it might be right," Bill said, thoughtfully
scowling at the plans, and going over the figures of the dip. "But
you're the boss. What you say goes."

"But don't you think I'm right?"

"Yes," hesitatingly, "or, anyway, it's worth takin' a chance on. Bells
used to say the mines around here all had to get