“There’s gold in this ball—or I’m not alive,” the other replied.
“Wo-o-w!” Ben flung his cap among the rafters, and, seizing the ball of amalgam, he sent it after the cap.
“Here, young feller, don’t you go plumb crazy! That’s heavy! Want ter kill us? Give me that ball—I ain’t through with it yet.”
Ben returned the ball. “I had to let off steam or bust!” he said.
“Now, we’ll see what we’ll see,” said Mundon, as he repeated the process he had followed with the first handful of amalgam, until he had three good-sized lumps.
“The gold’s inside of them?” Ben asked.
“Course it is,—that is, we’ve reason to s’pose so.”
“How ever are we going to get it out! I say, Mundon, I’d have made a pretty fizzle of this business without you.”
“You’d have had to found somebody else, that’s all,” Mundon modestly replied.