'Yes,' said Longstreet. 'Oh, yes.'
But on the instant in his eye was that look of a man with the ace buried. Perhaps Mrs. Murray had played poker; clearly she knew something of poker faces.
'You have found it!' she cried softly. 'Oh, I am so glad!'
He looked at her wonderingly.
'What makes you say that?' he stammered.
'That I am glad? Why shouldn't I be? Why shouldn't every one be glad? When one's friend—oh, but we are friends, dear Mr. Longstreet! There is the one glorious thing to be said about this country, about all of the West back from the railroads, that two persons don't have to know each other a year to become real, true friends. For your sake and for the sake of your wonderful daughter, am I not to be genuinely glad?'
He had to wait to the end of the rushing words to correct her:
'I meant, what made you say that I had found it?'
She opened her big eyes at him like a baby.
'But you have, haven't you? You came to find gold; you brought to bear upon the situation your scientific knowledge instead of a prospector's poor brain; and you have found gold, I am sure!' She smiled upon him brightly as she concluded with a semblance of trustfulness and artlessness: 'Tell me the truth; haven't you found it?'