"Honest?" sputtered Chunky. "Tad Butler, I'm honest, and you know it! I owe you a few dimes, and I'd sooner owe them to you all my life than cheat you out of the money."
But Tad wasn't listening. He was off his pony now, bending near the Professor, and listening intently to what that scientific gentleman had to say of the gold signs.
"As to whether there is gold enough here to amount to what miners call 'pay dirt,'" Professor Zepplin continued, "I don't care to say just yet. Gold is plentiful in these mountains, yet there is rarely enough of it found in one place to pay for the trouble of getting it."
"Show me the gold," pleaded Chunky.
"Here is color," replied the Professor, resting a fingertip on a dull yellowish streak.
"I don't see the gold," said Stacy, after a hard stare.
"You're not used to the sight," jibed Tad. "Now, Walter's father is a banker, and I'll wager Walter has seen a lot of it at the bank."
"Only a few bushels of it at a time," said Walter dryly. "Of course a bushel of gold is a tame sight."
"That's enough! That's enough! I can't think in such large amounts. Pints are about as far as I can go when it comes to gold," retorted Stacy.
"Pennies, you mean," suggested Ned mischievously.