Vermont. What! twenty thou—No. No: I'd willingly chip in.
Jube. Yas, indeed, we'll all chip in.
Vermont. But we can't raise that amount of dust.
(Tom comes down run with a rusty old pickaxe on his shoulder, and a piece of canvas grasped by four corners in his right hand.)
Tom. Then, call on me. (Stops on platform)
Moselle. Tom!
Tom. Dick, you're free. Look there! (Throws canvas down on stage: it opens, showing a mass of dirt, and nuggets of gold.)
Dick. Gold!
Jube (runs up, and picks up a nugget). Look at dar, look at dar!