“I should think you’d lose a lot.”
“Of quicksilver, you mean? No, you don’t; ’cause you got ter keep the tube cold and have the end of it sunk in water. Then the quicksilver’ll condense again—so you won’t lose much of it. My! how them lumps of gold will shine to you, eh?”
The boy’s eyes sparkled with delight, but he only nodded. He was thinking very hard. Here, evidently, was just the man he needed. He had seen an arastra at work in one of his father’s mines, but he knew nothing about the practical details necessary to the construction of one. Should he offer to employ this man, or should he offer him a percentage of the profits? The latter proposition seemed the more feasible; for, although it might cost him more in the end, he had no ready money to pay out in wages. His mind was quickly made up.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Mr. Mundon. If you’ll help me with the scheme,—I don’t mean just by talking, but with day’s work,—I’ll give you one third of the net proceeds.”
“That’s a square offer,—seein’ as how I aint got nothin’ to put in,—and I’ll take it. I’m out of a job just now, through waitin’ fur a friend from Australia. I expect he’ll be here in a month more,—or mebbe ’twill be several,—and then we’ll try Colorado together. I’d reely like this work to fill up the time. There’s something sort of venturesome ’bout it, that ’peals to me.”
“And I’m very glad to get you to help me,” Ben replied; “I’ve been worrying a good deal since I bought it.”
“I’d thought of it a little, myself; and I come out here to-day ’cause I kinder thought I’d find you a-hangin’ ’round somewheres near this place.”
“Let’s go in and look over the ground,” said Ben.
They entered the inclosure and Mundon selected the most suitable place for the arastra.