“No,” said Hogan. “Other men around me were lucky, but I wasn’t.”
“Perhaps your claim was a poor one.”
“It was, as long as I had anything to do with it,” said Hogan. “I sold it out for a trifle and the next day the other man found a nugget. Wasn’t that cursed hard?” he grumbled.
“You ought to have kept on. Then you would have found the nugget.”
“No, I shouldn’t. I am too unlucky. If I had held on, it wouldn’t have been there. You’ve got on well. You’re lucky.”
“Yes; I have no reason to complain. But I wasn’t lucky all the time. I was robbed of every cent of money, when I met a good friend, who bought this business for me.”
“Does it pay?” asked the other eagerly.
“Yes, it pays,” said Joe cautiously.
“How much do you make, say, in a week?” asked Hogan, leaning his elbows on the counter and looking up in Joe’s face.
“Really, Mr. Hogan,” said Joe, “I don’t feel called upon to tell my business to others.”