Harper's Young People, November 8, 1881 / An Illustrated Weekly

KILLING THE PANTHER.
Steve Harrison rose to his feet, and looked curiously along the ledge in both directions.
It was not the first ore he had seen during his three years and more of wandering with Murray and the Lipans, but never before had he tumbled down upon anything precisely like it.
Mine, he said to himself, aloud— mine! But what can I do with it?
Do with it? What can you do with it?
Murray was still kneeling upon the precious quartz, and fingering spot after spot where the yellow metal showed itself, and the strange fire in his eyes was deeper than ever.
Steve!
What, Murray?
I thought it was all gone, but it isn't.
Thought what was all gone?