So Owens sat a-thinking in his library and racking his brain about Jim. There, not a stone's throw away, lay a sick man, possibly possessed of a secret that might change the face of history anew.
How many times it had happened that a lonely prospector, weary, ragged and hungry, had, with a stroke of a pick or the flick of a pan, revealed such sources of wealth as to change a burning desert, a fetid swamp or a bleak mountain range into a hive of industry! What statesman has ever wrought as many wonders for his country as has that questing nomad with his shovel and his shallow pan?
The spirit of rugged honesty and of fair play which so sharply distinguishes the real miner from the mere mining speculator lay deep in Owens. He had worked in the gold diggings, himself, and his standards of principle were those of the great outdoors. He scorned to take advantage of the opportunity given him by his position as owner of the mine to overhear the delirious ravings of the sick man. That he might not be tempted, he kept away from the hospital ward, except for a short daily visit of inquiry.
When Jim grew better, however, and evinced a marked liking for Owens' company, the mine-owner yielded to his interest in the prospector. Even then he restrained himself from making so much as an indirect reference to the secret of his employe, though the matter was seldom out of his mind.
He had no thought of filching Jim's secret from him. Honest to the core, Owens' thoughts were on a larger scale. As a mining man, he thought naturally what personal profit he could turn, should the secret prove to be worth while; but he thought far more of Jim. He rejoiced in the hope that, perhaps, he could bring to fulfilment the prospector's hidden dream. And, most of all, he wished to play a part in adding another treasure-hunt to the golden glory of the world.
CHAPTER VI
NUGGETS!
Weeks had passed since the accident, and Jim was still in the hospital. The disaster had been costly to the colliery, but not crippling. The shafts—always the most costly portion of mine development—had not been injured. Many of the galleries had been reopened. The great ventilation fans were working again at full speed. The cages of coal were whirling up the shaft as of old.
Otto, after a short rest, had gone to work. The old miner was well satisfied with the fulfilment of his prophecies. The "knockers" had indeed tasted blood, for the two men in the old workings had never been found. As the mining engineer had supposed, that section of the mine must be abandoned forever. Moreover, Otto's forecast that Clem would be rescued, uninjured, also had come true.
Clem, indeed, was recovering, but the doctor declared him as yet unfit to resume the arduous work of hewing below ground. Accordingly, Owens had given him a temporary position as assistant to the safety inspector of the mine, for the accident had awakened the interest of the men in safety work, and the young fellow was quite competent to help in the simpler forms of instruction.