Clay forgot that they were there. He measured the ledge. He chipped off piece after piece and examined it closely. “I never dreamed it would be here, in this shape,” he said at last. “Look!—and fully eight feet, solid. This hill is full of it. The old preacher will find it hard to spend his wealth.”
“But that is not all,” said Travis; “see how the dip runs—see the vein—this way.” He pointed to the left.
Clay paled: “That means—it is remarkable—very remarkable. Why, this vein should not have been here. It is too low to be in the Carboniferous.” He suddenly stopped: “But here it is—contrary to all my data and—and—why really it takes the low range of the poor land of Westmoreland. It—it—will make me rich.”
“You haven't seen all,” said Travis—“look!” He turned and walked to another part of the small cave, where the bank had broken, and there gleamed, not the black, but the red—the earth full of rich ore.
Clay picked up one eagerly.
“The finest iron ore!—who—who—ever heard of such a freak of nature?”
“And the lime rock is all over the valley,” said Travis, “and that means, coal, iron and lime—”
“Furnaces—why, of course—furnaces and wealth. Helen, I—I—it will make Westmoreland rich. Now, in all earnestness—in all sincerity I can tell you—”
“Do not tell me anything, Clay—please do not. You do not understand. You can never understand.” Her eyes were following Travis, who had walked off pretending to be examining the cave. Then she gave a shriek which sounded frightfully intense as it echoed around.
Travis turned quickly and saw standing between him and them a gaunt, savage thing, with froth in its mouth and saliva-dripping lips. At first he thought it was a panther, so low it crouched to spring; but almost instantly he recognized Jud Carpenter's dog. Then it began to creep uncertainly, staggeringly forward, toward Clay and Helen, its neck drawn and contracted in the paroxysms of rabies; its deadly eyes, staring, unearthly yellow in the lantern light. Within two yards of Clay, who stood helpless with fear and uncertainty, it crouched to spring, growling and snapping at its own sides, and Helen screamed again as she saw Travis's quick, lithe figure spring forward and, grasping the dog by the throat from behind, fling himself with crushing force on the brute, choking it as he fell.