“Yes, father,” I said; “but I didn’t like to ask.”
“Well, I’ll tell you without, my boy. I’ve not got much profit out of it at present, because the expenses of starting have been so great; but it’s a very fine thing, my boy.”
“Is it going to make you rich, father?”
“I hope so, boy, for your sake. There’s plenty of lead, and out of the lead we are able to get about four per cent of silver.”
“Four per cent, father!” I said; “what—interest?”
“No, boy, profit. I mean in every hundred pounds of lead there are four pounds of pure silver, but of course it costs a good deal to refine.”
“And may I go and see it all to-morrow?” I asked.
“To be sure; and I hope, after a year or two, you will be of great use to me there.”
I felt as if I could hardly sleep that night when I went to bed. There had been so much to see about the place, so much talk to have with old Sam and Kicksey, that it hardly needed the thought of seeing the mine next day to keep me awake.
I thought I should never go to sleep, I say; but I awoke at half-past seven the next morning, feeling as if I had had a thoroughly good night’s rest, and as soon as breakfast was over I started with my father on a dull soft winter’s morning to see the mine.