“Do you believe it? Big pockets have been found in solitary splendor before this.”
“This hill is mineral from end to end,” said Gregory with intense conviction. “And I want to get to the main lode as quickly as possible.”
“By the way,” said Mark abruptly, “why don’t you locate your claim?”
“Locate? Why, the land’s mine. Patent is all right. My father even patented several placer claims——”
“Mining laws are fearful and wonderful things. Judges, with a fat roll in their pockets, have been known to make fearful and wonderful interpretations before this. If you’ve struck a new copper belt—well, the enemy has billions. Better stake off the entire hill, and apply for patents. You may be grey before you get them, but the application is enough——”
“It would cost a lot of money, and I don’t like the idea of paying twice over. This is costing thousands——”
“And you’ll soon be taking out thousands a week. But if you need it all I’ll lend you the money. It would be a good investment for Ora. You can pay me four per cent. I’ve a mind to go ahead today and begin staking off.”
Gregory stood still with his head inclined at the angle which indicated that he was concentrating his mind. “Very well,” he said curtly. “Go ahead. And I don’t need your money. Stake off every inch of the hill and have a good map made. See that the side lines are flush with the boundary. Of course I’d never have any trouble with you, but Mrs. Blake might take it into her head to sell. Get out a surveyor when you’re ready for him. Don’t bother me until the thing is done.”
Mark took a longer vacation and worked off some twenty pounds. He wished ruefully that Ora would return suddenly, for he doubted that his love of good living would undo the excellent work when he was once more in Butte. He employed a U. S. deputy mineral surveyor, the map was made, Gregory applied for his patents; the lawyers’s mind was at rest for the present, although he kept his ears open in Butte.
Gregory sank his shaft ostensibly to determine the dip and width of the vein leading from the chamber, but secretly with the hope of meeting the body of ore already uncovered in the Primo Mine. He was elated with his splendid “find” and sudden wealth, but his old dream never left him for a moment. Indeed he would have been more than willing to miss the pyroxenite if he could come upon a lode of quartz containing free gold. That was what he had visualised all his life. He wanted to stand in his own stopes and flash his lantern along glittering seams, not merely send masses of decomposed grey-black ore to the sampling works and await returns. If he found a vein worth the outlay he would erect his own stamp mill and listen to its music. Such is the deathless boy that exists in all men. Mere wealth meant far less to him than the beautiful costly toy to play with for a while.