"'Until her heart did break!'" he murmured. But when Budd appeared again he only asked if he was interested in geology.
"I am if it's the sort that's got silver in it," replied the cook.
"One does not look for silver in sandstone formation," the professor explained.
"Do you mean to tell me the Almighty couldn't put silver in this here red rock?" Jim demanded, from the stone on which he had seated himself.
"No," replied the professor guardedly: "I say only that He did not. However, here is a bit of quartz——"
"Say!" interrupted the cook, "I'm a heap more interested in the specimen you've got in that bottle." He was staring at the polished cap of the flask.
"Indeed, are you?" the other smiled a a tolerant smile. "Then perhaps you will do me the honor——"
Budd seized the flask without a second invitation and raised it to his lips. He drank as dying men drink water, and when he stopped for lack of breath his face was fiery but for the white scar. As he lowered the bottle he met the professor's curious fixity of gaze, and wriggled uneasily before it.
"Say, partner," he remonstrated, "your whiskey's all right; but I'm hanged if I like your eye! By blood! it goes ag'in me!"
"I beg your pardon," said the professor without averting his look. "I have the habit of close observation. And," he proffered the flask afresh, "the more you drink of that, the less I'll have to carry home."