"Dere!" he grunted. "Isn't it? Ja! I told you once I fill my sacks. Now I do so."
"What's in 'em?" blurted George.
"Gold. My gold."
George's eyes bulged; Terry heard him pant, and he caught his breath himself.
"In every sack?"
"Ja." One of the sacks had a rent in the upper side. The German inserted his fingers and thumb and extracting some of the contents, displayed the sample in his pudgy, calloused palm. The sample was black sand, all yellowed and asparkle with glittering grains.
"I wash him cleaner when I get time," announced the German. "First I fill all my sacks up tight. Den maybe it winter an' I must go away. My wife an' I an' two leetle girls sleep in here on top; dose odder girls sleep under; nobody get my gold. I fill my sacks in my wagon, an' some day I hitch up my oxen an' drive off alretty." He smoothed down the bed again, over the treasure. "I am a smart man. I save some sacks, dot time when I sell."
"But you've got millions!" exclaimed Terry. "I should think you'd go out instead of staying. You can't use that gold here."
"It is notting," asserted the German. "My gulch is so much gold I cannot dig him fast enough. If I go away somebody come in an' steal." He blinked at Terry with his fat eyes. "Maybe I sell, to goot boys who would stay an' watch while I go an' come back. Den we could all work togedder."
"Sell all the gulch?"