"I've got to send news of that to hum," he said. "Gosh, but this beats farmin' all to bits, don't it?"
"Like to get a market basket full of 'em, eh, Si?" said Mark, dryly.
"Wouldn't you?"
"You bet!" laughed Mark, dropping into the common expression of the day.
The weather was growing steadily warmer, and soon the buds began to come out and the grass took on its coat of green. Sleeping in the tent was quite comfortable, and the boys declared it would have been stuffy to have remained in a cabin.
Mark was getting hardened to the labor and it was but seldom that his back ached as it had when he had first taken hold. They soon gave up one claim as next to worthless and all four of the partners labored along a small brook flowing into the gulch, which was dry a good part of the time, the water soaking away in the sandy bottom.
It was late on Friday afternoon that Mark and Bob were digging around the bottom of a big bowlder which was imbedded in the dark sand. They had uncovered some fair-sized grains of gold and were trying to reach the bottom of the "sand pocket," as they called it.
"Not a great deal of gold here," remarked Bob. "But I guess it is worth working for."
"We are making more than fair wages, Bob."
"Oh, I know that, Mark. But when a fellow gets used to making big money he hates to drop back."