"So there's a meteor. We're not fishing for meteors, professor. They're mostly iron, anyway. Gold, now, would be a different matter."
O'Brien dropped lightly into the hole, scraping at the dirt with his fingers. "Wonder how long it's been here? You run along, Steve. I'll catch up with you."
Arnsen sighed. O'Brien, with his vast enthusiasm for everything under the sun, was off again. There would be no stopping him now till he had satisfied his curiosity about the meteorite. Well, Arnsen had a new fly he was anxious to use, and it would soon be too late for good fishing. With a grunt he turned and pushed on toward the stream.
The fly proved excellent. In a surprisingly short time Arnsen had bagged the limit. There was no sign of O'Brien, and hunger made itself evident. Arnsen retraced his steps.
The younger man was sitting cross-legged beside the crater, holding something in his cupped hands and staring down at it. A swift glance showed Arnsen that the meteorite had been uncovered, and, apparently, cracked in two, each piece the size of a football. He stepped closer, to see what O'Brien held.
It was a gray crystal, egg-sized, filled with cloudy, frozen mists. It had been cut into a diamond-shaped, multifaced gem.
"Where'd you get that?" Arnsen asked.
O'Brien jumped, turning up a startled face. "Oh—hello, Steve. It was in the meteorite. Damnedest thing I ever saw. I saw the meteorite had a line of fission all around it, so I smacked the thing with a rock. It fell apart, and this was in the middle. Impossible, isn't it?"
"Let's see." Arnsen reached for the jewel. O'Brien showed an odd reluctance in giving it up, but finally dropped it into the other's outstretched hand.
The gem was cold, and yet not unpleasantly so. A tingling raced up Arnsen's arm to his shoulder. He felt an abrupt, tiny shock.