"We've formed a partnership with Ferrers, sir," Reade gravely informed Mr. Dunlop, "and we're going into the mining business on our own account."
"Nonsense! Where's your claim?"
"Somewhere, sir, in this part of Nevada."
"You haven't found the claim yet, then?" asked the promoter, with a tinge of relief in his voice.
"No, sir. We located a promising claim, but the Gage gang tricked us out of it. We'll find another, though."
"Then you'll prove yourselves very talented young men," scoffed Mr. Dunlop. "Lad, don't you know that I've been all over this country with old-time prospectors? There isn't any claim left that will pay you for the trouble of locating and working it."
"We're going to hope for better luck than your words promise us, sir," Harry hinted.
"You'll have your labor for your pains, then, and the satisfaction of finding yourselves fools," exclaimed Dunlop testily. "You'd better drop all that nonsense, and report to me after breakfast."
"It's not to be thought of, Mr. Dunlop," Tom replied gravely. "We are here in the land of gold. We think we see our chance to work for ourselves for a while, and we're going to make the most of our chance."
"Then you're a pair of idiots," quivered indignant Dunlop.