why the poor, ignorant fool--can't you
see that the vein is getting bigger? Well, how can it be a gash-vein
when it's between two good walls and increasing in width all the time?
Your friend must think I'm a prospector."

"Oh, no," protested the Colonel smiling feebly at the joke, "but--well,
he advises me not to buy. The fact that the ore is so rich on the
surface is against its continuance at depth. All gash-veins, as you
know, are very rich at the surface; so in this case the fact is against
you. But I tell you what I will do--just to protect my other property
and avoid any future complications--I'll give you a thousand dollars for
your claim."

"Whooo!" jeered Denver, "I'll get more than that for the ore I just sent
to the smelter. No, I'm no thousand-dollar man, Mr. Dodge. I've got a
fissure vein and it's increasing at depth, so I guess I'll just hold on
a while. You wait till old Murray begins to ship!"

"Ah--er--well, I'll give you fifteen hundred," conceded the Colonel
drawing out his check-book and pen. "That's the best I can possibly do."

"Well save your check then, because I'm a long ways from broke. What
d'ye think of that for a roll?" Denver drew out his roll of prize money,
with a hundred dollar bill on top, and flickered the edges of the
twenties. "I guess I can wait a while," he grinned. "Come around again,
when I'm broke."

"I'll give you a thousand dollars down and nine thousand in six months,"
burst out the Colonel with sudden vehemence. "Now it's that or
absolutely nothing. If you try to hold me up I'll abandon my option and
withdraw entirely from the district."

"Sorry to lose you, old-timer," returned Denver genially, "but I guess
we can't do business. Come around in about a month."

A sudden flash came into the Colonel's bold eyes and he opened his mouth
to speak--then he paused and shut his mouth tight.

"Not on your life, Mr. Russell," he said with finality, "if I go I will
not come back. Now give me your lowest cash price for the property. Will
you accept ten thousand dollars?"

"No, I won't," answered Denver, "nor a hundred thousand, either. I'm a
miner--I know what I've got."

"Very well, Mr. Russell," replied Colonel Dodge crisply and, bowing
haughtily, he withdrew.

Denver looked after him laughing, but something about his stride
suddenly wiped away the grin from Denver's face--the Colonel was going
somewhere. He was going with a purpose, and he walked like a man who was
perf