He stopped, and looked at Ingleby, whose face grew a trifle grave.
"A placer claim," said the latter, "can only be held while you work upon it continuously."
"Exactly! Seventy-two hours after we lay down the shovel any other man who thinks it worth while can seize upon our last chance of making a fortune. I think you understand that, considering the present cost of provisions, we are scarcely likely to save as much as would keep us while we try again, out of what we make on Tomlinson's claim."
Ingleby realized this and said nothing. The giving up of his claim implied the parting with certain aspirations which had of late supported him through long days of feverish toil; but one must live, and he had discovered that to work as the free miners do in that country a somewhat ample diet is necessary. He sat near the fire, and Hetty, who saw the hardness of his face, understood it.
"You really think there is gold in the claim?" she said.
"Yes," said Ingleby. "Tomlinson and one or two of the others who have played this game half their lives admitted that the signs were as good as any they had seen. Still, I'm by no means sure we can hold out until we strike it."
Hetty smiled in a curious fashion. "Especially while you have me to keep?"
Even Leger appeared astonished, and Ingleby flushed hotly as he turned to her. "Hetty," he said sternly, "what do you mean by that?"
The girl laughed, and pointed to the loaf. "That is nice bread?"
"It is," said Ingleby. "Still, I don't see what that has to do with it."