“The mine is worthless?”
“Not entirely so,” the rancher replied. “A man could make a hard living there, perhaps. Only the hand-picked ore left by Old Stony and my father has real value. The rest assays too low to make commercial mining profitable.”
“What of the ore itself?” Jack asked thoughtfully. “Isn’t it worth anything?”
“Roughly, I figure it ought to net from $10,000 to $40,000, depending on transportation costs. Whatever it tallies, I’ll give you boys your share.”
“We’ve already had our share,” Mr. Livingston said with a smile. “The gold never interested us as much as the adventure.”
“Even so, cash is handy to have,” the rancher insisted. “You could use another vacation next year, couldn’t you?”
“We’re always r’arin’ to go!” War chuckled.
“If I have luck getting the ore out, I’ll send you a check,” Warner promised. “Nothing spectacular. Enough, though, to pay you for your lost equipment—and for a vacation next summer.”
“What will you do with your share?” Jack asked curiously.
“Pay off the mortgage on the ranch,” Warner answered. “Of course I’ll take care of Hansart’s last expenses at the hospital too, and his funeral.”