"Yes, sir; I'll prospect for you at $100 a day. You'd save time and probably money."
"All right. I'll go with you and we'll talk it over." And on strode the professor and his instructor.
"Hum!" remarked Harry. "The secret of making money is to have something the other fellow will pay for: sometimes that's goods, and again it's knowledge."
The gulch really was a fascinating place. Such a hive of industry—saw and hammer at work, as well as pick and spade; but amidst it all there seemed to be no place for the Extra Limited. A general disappointment was in the air, with so many persons working hard and as yet getting nothing.
"We'll travel 'round to Pat," quoth Harry, after a time. "He may have struck something by this."
As they approached Pat, he suddenly uttered a loud whoop, and danced a jig. His neighbors dropped their tools and rushed for him.
"Sure, Oi'm rich!" cheered Pat. "There's gold in my pan! Hooray! Rich Oi am. Half o' yez can look at a time till yez all are done, an' the other halves kape away so yez won't carry off me gold on yez feet."
Yes, in the bottom of Pat's pan was a trace of yellow, not to speak of a pebble about the size of a pea which he proclaimed to be gold also.
Scarcely hearing the congratulations, Pat fell to work again.
"Jiminy!" protested Terry. "We've got to stake out a claim somewhere, and have a mine ready for dad and George. Let's go clear up the gulch."