“We’re not trying to hide anything,” he informed the engineer quietly. “Frankly, we were trying to find the old Spanish emerald mine that Corning came upon some months ago.”
Rhodes laughed unpleasantly. “I suspected as much,” he said. “Every greenhorn that comes to Colombia falls for those romantic tales about lost mines. Corning was as big a sucker as anyone. But he never found the mine.”
“You’re sure?” Mr. Livingston questioned.
“Of course, I am. He fell heir to an old map when he took over here. But it was worthless. If the Spaniards ever mined in this area, the emeralds are pretty well gone, except in this pit we’re working now. Any day it will play out. Then the mine is finished and should be closed.”
“What do you say to this?” Carelessly, Mr. Livingston dropped a large emerald on the table.
Both Rhodes and his wife gasped as they saw the handsome green stone. In the morning sunlight, it burned with a rich fire and appeared flawless.
Carefully, the engineer examined the gem. For a long moment, he did not speak.
“Well?” the Scout leader prompted.
“So you found the old mine after all?” Rhodes returned, his eyes glittering. “Or shall we say you were guided there? You never could have come upon it by your own efforts.”
“At any rate, we have discovered the mine—apparently, a rich one. The Last Chance should take on new life now.”