As the gentlemen gathered around the dump, the last vestige of Mr. Blaisdell’s irritation seemed to have disappeared, as he blandly expatiated upon the quantity and quality of the ore.
Van Dorn’s eyes sparkled as he saw the shining lumps from the Yankee Boy, and he and Lindlay exchanged quick glances.
“Look at that,” said the latter, quickly extracting from his pocket a sample of the Sunrise ore and placing it beside a piece taken at random from the dump; “does any one pretend to tell me that those are from the same vein?”
“It is a different class of ore altogether,” replied Van Dorn, “such ore as that never would be found under the conditions existing in that mine, but I’ll be blest if I wouldn’t like to see the mine it did come from.”
Mr. Rivers had observed this little side conversation and Van Dorn’s close scrutiny of the samples, and was at his side in a moment, inquiring in his smoothest tones:
“What do you think of that ore, Mr. Van Dorn?”
“Very fine ore, so far as I can judge,” said Van Dorn carelessly, “I would like to see it run through that concentrator and amalgamator of mine; if these men ever get through talking about mines, Mr. Rivers, I must get you and Mr. Blaisdell interested in my machinery.”
At the suggestion of Mr. Lindlay, the party next paid a visit to the Morning Star mine, that being the one which Mr. Blaisdell had declared was on the same lead as the Sunrise. This they found to be a valuable mine, but there was not the slightest indication of the vein being identical with that of the Sunrise, its strike carrying it in a totally different direction, and its characteristics being wholly dissimilar.
As it was too late for any further mining explorations, the team was ordered, and preparations made for a return to the house.
Lindlay and Van Dorn, by mutual agreement, started up the canyon road together, in advance of the others.