A Bargain.
“What?” roared Tregenna, furiously.
“It’ll turn out the richest mine in Cornwall, sir.”
“You’re a fool! Absurd! Ridiculous!” cried Tregenna, biting his nails, and then making his teeth grit together as he glared at the rough miner before him.
“Dessay I be,” said the man, surlily; “but I’ve been at work in the gallery all day, and I never see such tin ore before.”
“And I’ve let this go for a paltry few hundreds—a thousand or two at most,” muttered Tregenna. “But it can’t be true. Are you sure?” he said aloud.
“Sure enough, sir, and I thought you’d like to know. I didn’t expect to be called a fool for my pains.”
“No, no, of course not, Lannoe,” said Tregenna, hurriedly. “I was put out. I’ve heard the gossip all day, but I thought it exaggerated. I’m glad you’ve come.”
“Oh, there’s no ’zaggeration ’bout it,” said the man. “I’ve kept an eye on it all ever since the mine was dried, just as you wished, and they was getting nothing but rubbish, till Amos Pengelly, who was always picking about, hit upon this vein.”
“Damn Amos Pengelly!” cried Tregenna, savagely.