"It certainly looks mighty promising," agreed a lanky and lean individual, who rejoiced in the cognomen of the Shadow. The Shadow, so called because of his rather fine outline, was the youngest of the party; indeed, he was little more than a boy in years, yet his reputation as a skilled bushman and rough rider was great, and the strength concealed in his spare figure was marvellous.
"I say, mates," broke out another typical bushman, Never Never Dave by name, popping his head out of a shaft near by, "I do believe I've struck the stuff on the ten-foot level."
He clambered out of his excavation and approached the party, who were at this moment assembled for the purpose of preparing lunch, displaying in his hand a white sugary-looking substance which he had evidently broken from the supposed wash. The Shadow gave a whoop of delight, but was immediately checked by an old miner beside him, whose keen eyes and heavily furrowed face bespoke the hardy pioneer.
"Don't yell out so soon, young 'un," he reproved sternly. "Gold is a most deceitful phantom, and it's when you're sartin you've got it, that it ain't there."
"Eight O!" sang out the irrepressible one, rushing to get a pan of water from the soak near by. "Eight O, Dead Broke."
"When he reappeared he found them all examining the sample wash with critical interest; and as it was handed round for inspection, not a word was spoken; not a trace of joy or emotion showed in the rugged features of the men who depended so much on the result, and even the Shadow, when he handled the specimen, felt constrained to copy the tactics of his neighbours. The conglomerate stone was literally studded with gold; it required neither the pan test nor the magnifying glass to prove that.
"It's too good to last, boys," commented Nuggety Dick, with a sigh.
That broke the spell.
"I've never seen anything like it," grunted Dead Broke Dan, blinking furiously.
"Hoorah for Golden Flat!" broke out the Shadow, tossing his tattered hat into the air. "Hip, hip, hip, hoorah!"