"I am. I asked the man to let me have his general opinion as soon as he could; he's to send a regular analysis later. He has been quick, but perhaps he has some rough preliminary test."
"But he tells you they're unpromising!"
"I'm beginning to think Mr. Allinson is a bit of a genius," Frobisher observed. "No doubt he'll explain his mysterious proceedings."
"I gave the man a three-word code, reversing the meaning, and his answer puts the quality of the ore, so to speak, in the comparative degree. It shows that we have struck the edge of the lode, and careful prospecting should give us better results."
He broke off, standing still, the message in his hand and a look of marked relief in his face, and Frobisher turned to his daughter.
"It was a maxim of Napoleon's that one should use every means of misleading the enemy, and Mr. Allinson seems to know that telegrams are handled rather casually in these small places. A mineral claim doesn't belong to its discoverer until it's duly staked off and recorded; and if all the formalities are not complied with it can be jumped."
He was called away a few minutes later, and Andrew took his place by the hearth with Geraldine sitting opposite him.
"I'm very glad you got such good news," she said, with a curious softness in her voice.
"Thank you. It was you who brought it to me; but that wasn't all you did. I came here dejected, and now I'm cheerful again."
"But that isn't surprising, after the message."