“We pray for pardon for the sin,” the brother put in quickly.
“And for your guardian angel ever to watch over you, for you were most generous,” Gonzalas declared warmly.
“And the platinum, Pedro mio, it is here, si?” Mrs. Gonzalas was skipping about like a happy youngster and the two men exchanged anxious glances. “Show it to me,” she urged.
“Patience, beloved one,” Gonzalas urged.
“We seem not to find what we seek,” his brother helped him.
“Not find it, mio? It is the river—the Platinum River we called it, with the forks, the dry bed—”
“Yes, everything—” Her husband shrugged his shoulders, then smiled cheerfully. “We are in the right place. We will search more careful. It could not—puff—be blown away.”
CHAPTER V
PLATINUM RIVER
“Mio—Pedro—you would jest with me,” Mrs. Gonzalas tried to laugh at the joke but it was a feeble attempt and she gave a little disappointed sob. “But this is the place. So many times you have told me, the river, small with three branches, one dry, and on that one you found the flakes—much—you brought much home; through the forests and over the mountains you carried it to us.”