“But, I say, how do you know it’s gold? How can you tell?”
“One way is because it’s so soft, you can cut it almost like lead.”
“Who says so?”
“Gunson told me.”
“Then we’ll soon see about that,” cried Esau, pulling out and opening his knife. “Sit down here on this stone and give me that round bit.”
“What are you going to do?” I said.
“Try if it’ll cut. Split it like you do a shot when you go a-fishing.”
He picked the little pear-shaped piece from the sand, laid it on the stone beside us, and placing the edge of the knife upon it, pressed down hard, with the result that he cut a nick in the metal, which held on fast to the blade of the big knife.
“There!” I cried, triumphantly.
“I don’t believe it yet,” said Esau, hoarsely. “Are you sure it ain’t that pyrry stuff?”