"Leave what?" gasped Winthrop.
"It. The find I made while you was out surveyin' the Santa Fé. I was feared you'd get nervous prosecution if I told you all to once, so I breaks it easy like."
"What was it?"
"Nothin' but a tent in the cañon we're campin' in. But, Billy, when you find a tent and some minin' tools and other signs of trouble 'way up some lonesome old slot in the hills, you want to get ready for a surprise. Mebby it'll be nothin' but some old clothes and bones. Mebby it'll be them and somethin' else. I didn't find the bones, but I found the somethin' else, coarse, and fair dribblin' thick in the dirt. It's there and rich, Billy, rich!"
Overland Red turned and paused as Winthrop leaned against a rock.
"It's the—the real thing?" queried the Easterner.
"The real thing, pardner. Now what do you think of that for highbrow stuff?"
"Meaning that you stumbled on the secret?"
"If you want to say it that way, yes. Just like fallin' into a sewer and findin' a gold watch where you lit."
"Then it's all true? We've found the gold? You really believed we should, and for that matter, so did I. I can't say why. I rather felt that we should."