"You can do it yet?"
"I suppose so. I haven't done any for years. This coal-mine business has kept me busy. But I've still got my portable assay outfit up at the house. I kept it for old-time's sake."
Jim's eyes glistened eagerly.
"You go to my cabin, Owens," he said, and it was noticeable that he dropped the "Mr.," "and five long paces due north from my kitchen window, you dig! You'll find a chunk of ore, there. Assay it, and then come back here!"
"But—"
The old prospector waved the interruption aside, impatiently.
"Do it, and then talk!"
Owens shrugged his shoulders and left, but little less excited than Jim.
That evening, during the middle of the night shift, when no one was likely to see him, the mine-owner went to the spot designated and began to dig. A foot or two beneath the surface, he found the chunk of ore. He put it in his pocket and hurried to his own house.
It was nearly dawn before he completed the assay. Then he put the ore and his memorandum of results in the safe and went to bed for a short sleep.