"I wouldn't call it ore, though," muttered Harry to himself. "I don't believe this rook holds gold enough to put a yellow plating on a cent."
"It does look rather poor, doesn't it, Harry?" Tom asked, trying to speak blithely.
"Humph! We've got to go deeper than this before we can expect to loosen rock worth thirty dollars to the ton," Harry declared cheerily.
"Oh, we'll surely strike pay-rock in big lots after a while," predicted Reade, smiling happily and whistling merrily as he strode away. "I'm glad Harry has his courage with him and his hopes high," Reade added to himself.
"I'm glad Tom is so cheerful and positive," thought Hazelton. "I'll do my best to help him keep in that frame of mind; though, for myself, I believe we would make more money if we stood on a cliff and tossed pennies into the ocean."
"I'm glad to see that all your high hopes have returned," declared
Tom, at supper that evening.
"Oh, I've got the gold fever for fair," laughed Hazelton. "Tom, how are we going to spend the money when we get it?"
"A new house for the folks at home will take some of my money, when
I get it," Tom declared, his eyes glowing.
"Any old thing that the folks take a fancy to will catch my share of the gold," Harry promised.
"But, of course, we'll wait until we get it."