them had
not been what they were looking for, and that they had found something
more satisfactory in another direction.

"Well, Blaisdell," said Mr. Rivers, in his quick, incisive way, "I'm
not in the least surprised."

"Not surprised!" echoed Mr. Blaisdell, "Why not? I confess I'm
surprised and disappointed."

"It's just what I expected," again chirped Mr. Rivers, "just what I
told you all along."

"I knew you said you were rather suspicious just in the direction
where I felt the surest of them."

"Just so," said Mr. Rivers, "I said all along, 'those fish won't bite
worth a nickel.'"

"Well," said Mr. Blaisdell, with a heavy sigh, "all we can do is to
try again."

"And next time, I'd advise you to have a little more bait, or else
don't tackle so big a fish."

It was Houston's last evening in Silver City, and he sat in the hotel
lobby reading letters which had just come from his uncle and Van Dorn,
under cover from the Chicago firm, as usual.

Mr. Cameron was delighted to have met Van Dorn and the Englishman, and
had engaged both men to remain in New York, awaiting word from
Houston, when he should be ready.

The closing paragraph in Van Dorn's letter he read and re-read with a
smile, it was so characteristic of his friend:

"I have had one of my machines carefully packed, and it now stands
addressed, ready to accompany me to your mining camp on short
notice, where I will show your people the latest method for the
reduction of ores; and if the mining company itself is not pretty
well reduced' before we get through, my name is not that of

Your friend,
ARTHUR VAN DORN.

P. S. 'The mills of the gods grind slowly,
But they grind exceeding small.'"

As Houston folded his letters, his attention was attracted by loud
talk among a group of men in another part of the lobby. Sauntering in
that direction, he heard an excited voice exclaim:

"I tell you, they're the biggest frauds on the face of the earth. If
there's a dishonest scheme, or a sharp, underhanded little game that
they're not onto, I'd like to know what it is."

"Which company do you mean?" inquired another speaker.

"I mean the mining company represented by Rivers and Blaisdell, with
old Wilson as a figure-head. I can't remember all their long-winded
names, but the whole combination is rotten, from beginning to end,
nothing bu